HPZ: Hogwarts Saga - Philosopher's Stone Arc
by Joshua The Evil Guy
Summary: YAHRBDRF Harry is raised by Goku and ChiChi, and is the adopted brother of Gohan. On top of being one of those saving the universe, Harry discovers on his eleventh birthday that he's a wizard and has to go to magic school for seven years.
1. Hogwarts Express

HPZ: Hogwarts Saga

 _Philosopher's Stone Arc_

Summary:

YAHRBDRF Harry is raised by Goku and ChiChi, and is the adopted brother of Gohan. On top of being one of those saving the universe, Harry discovers on his eleventh birthday that he's a wizard and has to go to magic school for seven years.

Author: Joshua

Disclaimer: JK Rowling has Harry, and whoever else from the books show up in these plots. I don't own either and I'm not making any money from all this, so don't bother suing me. DBZ and all characters and concepts are owned by Funimation and Toei Animation.

Author's Notes: YAHRBDRF = Yet Another Harry Raised By Different Relatives Fanfic. Rather than Petunia, ChiChi is Lily's sister and Harry is more or less Gohan's age, the only difference would be by a few weeks-months, same as with Dudley. Harry was taken by Piccolo along with Gohan and given "survival training". Unlike Gohan, who used speed and strength and his overwhelming ki power to survive, Harry used his uncontrollable accidental magic. They both fought the Saiyans together, Harry not being as powerful as Gohan but still plenty powerful enough to catch Vegeta's attention.

Harry stayed behind to "take care of dad" and then joined Goku on his ship, actually able to keep up with Goku's gravity training, though mostly by meditating rather than blowing himself up. While Goku came closer to being a Super Saiyan, Harry gained total control over his magic and was able to wield it like he could his ki. By the time of the Namek Saga, he had full magic control, but knew very few if any actual spells. He tag-teamed Frieza with Gohan and actually hurt the monster more than a little. After he had his 'potential' unleashed by the Namek Elder as Gohan and Krillin had, he Apparated back to the fight to help Goku against Level 4 Frieza, holding the monster back while Goku prepared his Spirit Bomb. After that, he was transported home by the Dragon, same as everyone else while Goku and Frieza stayed behind.

As far as special abilities of HPZ-Harry compared to Canon-Harry, Canon-Harry had to struggle and practice his spells a lot and it took him a few weeks to months to get good at any particular magical skill, such as Occlumency. HPZ-Harry only needs to see a spell performed properly once and he can do it perfectly after that. As for magical skills, it drops from weeks and months to hours and days. HPZ-Harry can also fly, is as strong as Gohan post-Namek, pre-Android Saga, and can perform the Kamehameha as well as his matching technique to Gohan's Masenkoha, the Tenshika - an energy beam attack modeled after Piccolo's Special Beam Canon, charging burning red energy spheres out to the side, and then bringing them together in front of him, and projecting the spiraling red spheres with a wave of red-orange energy. He also learned basic energy attacks and energy manipulation from both Piccolo, Goku and Master Roshi's sister the Witch.

Every other difference will be covered in-story.

Timeline begins shortly after Future-Trunks comes to warn of the Androids. Assume that Trunks, Frieza and King Cold arrived some time in early June or late May. Prophecy states that the Androids arrive "3 years from now, on May 12 at 10:00 A.M. near South City."

Episode 1: The Hogwarts Express

 _Platform 9 3/4, King's Cross Station_

 _London, England_

 _September First_

"Come on Goku!" Chichi yelled at her husband. "What is the platform number again?"

"It's Nine and Three Quarters, Mom," Gohan answered his mother with a tolerant tone.

"Do you know how to get to it?" Harry asked his brother in all but blood. "Because that would be very helpful."

"You're the 'wizard' why don't you tell me?" Gohan growled back.

Harry sneered and shoved the older-by-a-few-weeks boy. "And since when has being a wizard been a problem for you? You certainly weren't complaining when fruit was falling on our heads in the wilderness with Piccolo!"

"Now boys, no fighting indoors, you know your mother's rules," Goku told them from behind the huge stack of trunks and other cases that he was carrying.

"OK Dad," both Harry and Gohan agreed, while still glaring at each other.

A few moments later, Harry asked Gohan, "Seriously though, what's with ragging on me about being a wizard?"

Gohan actually glared and retorted, "Like you don't know."

Harry blinked, surprised at the open hostility. "Would I ask if I did?"

"You're going to a boarding school. In Scotland."

"Yeah, and you get to hang with Dad and Piccolo and Krillin and prepare for the Androids. While I'm stuck in a dorm."

"And Mom."

"Huh?"

Speaking softer now, Gohan repeated,"I'm also at home, with Mom. I'm still home-schooled, remember?"

Harry blinked and suddenly the past month's hostility between him and his brother made a lot more sense. "Hey Mom, Gohan is coming with me to Hogwarts, right?"

"Of course not!" she snapped back, distracted by all the people and seeing no signs to Platform 9 3/4. "He didn't get a letter, unfortunately, and anyway he has to stay home and study to become a Rhodes Scholar!"

Harry's eyes went wide. "Uh, Dad, you're going to come to Hogwarts and train me, right?" he said a bit louder than strictly necessary.

Chichi stopped and physically winced at the very idea of Goku and Dumbledore meeting and spending any amount of time together. "You know what, I think I could probably work something out so that Gohan could get a scholarship deal. That way you boys can still spend time training with each other and once Harry gets his OWLs, you can come and go from home to train with your father. Until then, I don't want you unnecessarily distracted from your school work. Either one of you, do you hear me?"

"Yes ma'am," they both dutifully replied.

"Where is the blasted train platform?!" she screamed suddenly.

"Now Chichi..." Goku tried to calm his wife. Fortunately, at that moment, a large group of redheaded teens and a matronly red haired woman walked by, the woman mumbling just loud enough to be heard, "... filled with muggles..."

"Who was that, Mom?" Harry asked. "And what's a... muddle?"

Chichi frowned at the redhead family that passed them by and made their way to the divider between Platforms Nine and Ten. "Not a nice word for people without magic. Harry, don't ever let me catch you calling _anybody_ that word. Is that understood?"

Gulping, Harry quickly nodded his head and replied, "Yes ma'am!"

"Good. Now, let's see, they must be taking the portal entrance, same as we are, so where did they..." Chichi followed along after the family of red haired magic users.

"Whoa! That was neat!" Goku exclaimed all of a sudden.

"What?" Chichi asked, distracted.

"The twins that just walked through the wall, Mom," Gohan pointed. "Their energy suddenly reappeared on the other side of the train yard! One instant here, the next instant." They all watched the eldest boy of the family ran through the wall, and Goku, Gohan and Harry's heads all snapped to the right. "Over there. Definitely neat."

"That's the portal then," Chichi decided, "Let's go." They waited for the other family to finish going through, the mother and daughter going last together, and then one by one, beginning with Harry, walked through the wall. Chichi went last to make sure Goku and Gohan didn't try anything too... Saiyan with the portal.

Once they were through, it was all Chichi could do to keep her three boys, and yes Goku definitely counted as a 'boy' in this case, from flying off the platform and playing 'trains' with actual trains. Hurrying them to the red steam engine and it's passenger cars, they tried to find a free cabin for Harry to put his things in. Finding a free spot in the very last of the passenger cars, Goku put away his adopted son's trunk and then carefully picked up the other trunks and cases, easily holding onto them with little effort. They were the results of Chichi's shopping adventure from the day before.

Before much else could be said or done, the whistle sounded for the train's departure and they all scrambled to say their goodbyes.

"Now be good. You remember Cousin Hagrid, right? He'll be there when the train arrives, just stick with him and do what he says," Chichi said as she hugged him with all her might. Only his enhanced gravity training kept him conscious. "And I'll be sure to send a letter tonight to the Headmaster about the scholarship deal for Gohan, so don't expect your father to pop by for any kind of training, all right? And let me know immediately if your father ever does show up, understand me?"

"All right Mom," he grumbled, ducking his head to hide the tears in his eyes.

"I'll be seeing you soon Bro," Gohan gave his brother a 'brotherly hug'. "And sorry for being such a pain these past couple weeks. I really thought you were... well, you know."

"Hey, you could have asked!" Harry playfully shoved his 'big' brother at that.

"Don't worry about your training at first, Harry," Goku told him after they shared their own goodbye hug. "Just have fun and study and do your homework and make plenty of friends, all right! Oh, and be sure to tell me what the food is like!"

"Ha hah!" Harry laughed as he stepped onto the moving train, "Will do Dad! I'll write as soon as I get there! And don't worry, those androids won't know what hit them once I learn a few spells!"

They waved at each other until neither could see the other, which was a good two minutes longer than everyone else on the Platform, and after having finally lost sight of his family, Harry turned and made his way back to his cabin. Only to find it already occupied by the youngest boy from that red haired family.

"Oh, hello," the tall boy blushed behind his freckles. "Sorry, everywhere else is full up. Is it OK if I sit here? That is your trunk I take it?"

"Yep, that's mine, and sure I don't mind," Harry shrugged and settled himself down on the bench under his trunk.

They both sat there in a comfortable silence for about a minute, at which point it became an uncomfortable silence. "So..." the red haired boy started to say, not really sure how to react to this strange muscled boy that seemed quite comfortable in a red and blue tunic. It was actually a training gi, but the young wizard had no way of knowing that.

Luckily, they were saved from any attempts at awkward conversation by the door to their cabin slamming open and the boy's twin brothers standing there, mischievous grins on their face. "Hey Ron, we're going to meet up with Lee Jordan, he's somewhere in the middle of the train. Seems he's got this giant tarantula that he's showing off to everybody."

The boy, Ron, visibly shivered and looked down as he mumbled his response, "Yeah, whatever." Clearly he either did not like his brothers... or he did not like the mention of the giant tarantula. Having recently had troubles with his own brother, Harry suspected it was more of the latter than the former.

"Oh, who's your friend?" the one that hadn't spoken yet spoke up.

"Son Harry, adopted child of Son Goku and his wife Son Chichi," he casually introduced himself. Being the adopted son of Chichi, Princess of the Ox Kingdom of Fire Mountain, he had been trained in a number of various "formal" greetings, so what he'd offered to the twins was as casual as it got with him.

"Your parents named you 'Son'?" both twins said together.

Harry shrugged and figured their ignorance for lack of experience than any kind of insult. "Son is my family name. In my culture, the family name is given before the person's name. So as to avoid potential... breeches of honor. At least that is how it was explained to me. If you know a person's family name before you know their name, you know whether or not you can be rude without having to worry about smirching a prominent family's honor."

The three redheads just stared at him, blinking. He shrugged in reply and turned back to looking out the window. Unintentionally, this shifted his hair just enough to allow them to see the lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead.

"Wait a tick, what was that?" one of the twins pointed.

"Hm? What was what?" Harry turned.

"That!" the same twin pointed again. "Are you...?"

"Well, it would make sense," his twin agreed before the question was even fully asked. "You are, aren't you?"

"What are you two...?" Ron started to ask, and then he too caught sight of the scar and his eyes went wide as his mouth hung open.

"What am I supposed to be?" Harry asked with a shrug.

"Harry Potter!" all three exclaimed at once.

"Oh, him, I mean, that. Yeah. My name before I was adopted was Potter. But now I'm Son Harry. Please keep that in mind as I refuse to acknowledge 'Potter' as my name. It's an honor thing," he added at their confused expressions.

"Blimey, you're really the Boy-Who-Lived!" Ron exclaimed.

"By the way, in case we neglected to introduce ourselves before," one of the twins began.

"Which we often do," his mirror image interjected.

"Please allow us to introduce ourselves. I'm Fred Weasley," the first one gave a short, yet dramatic bow.

"And I am the pretty one, George Weasley," the second one gave an identical bow.

"Hey, I thought I was the pretty one!" Fred argued.

"No, you're the funny one that likes to talk," George logically pointed out.

"Oh yeah, right," Fred nodded.

"Well, have fun you two!" George called as he dragged his twin out of the compartment and presumably to their original destination.

"Have a lot of brothers then?" Harry asked Ron, a note of amusement in his voice.

"Five," he grumbled in reply. "And a younger sister that will be going to Hogwarts next year."

"Huh, I only have the one. Can't be that bad, can it?" Harry tried to offer some consolation.

"Well, yeah, they're family and all that, but I get nothing but hand-me-downs. Charlie's old wand, Bill's old robes, and..." he reached into a pocket and pulled out a fat gray rat, "Percy's old pet rat."

Harry glanced at and then did a double-take at the rat. It was a wizard. He could tell that almost instantly, the energy was unmistakable. It also offered up a whole lot of questions. First of all, why Ron thought it was just an ordinary rat when quite obviously it was not, for a number of reasons. Heck, for all he knew, Ron's family were royalty and the rat was a bodyguard that they hadn't been told the true identity of. Still, it was rude to ask, so for the most part he held off on his burning questions and ignored the rat for the most part.

"Interesting. I don't actually have a pet. Well, unless you count Nimbus, but then he would be more of a family pet if one at all," Harry said.

"Nimbus?" Ron repeated as question. "Is that the name of your family owl?

"Nimbus is a cloud," Harry answered.

Ron stared and blinked a couple times before finally saying, "A cloud?"

Harry nodded. "Yep."

"Your family pet... is a cloud?" Ron said again. Finally, Harry just shrugged as though saying 'What can you do?'.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Surprised somewhat, the boys exchanged a look and then Harry stood up and opened the door to their compartment. On the other side was a girl around their age with bushy brown hair, already dressed in her school robes. Just behind her was a slightly shorter, chubby boy with dark brown, almost black hair and downcast eyes.

"Hello," the girl spoke abruptly and matter-of-factly, "Have either one of you seen a toad? Neville seems to have lost his and I'm helping him search for it."

Harry and Ron blinked and exchanged another look. Shrugging to one another, they replied in unison, "No."

"Oh, well do keep an eye out for it, would you?" she said, a bit crestfallen. The boy behind her was even more-so. Together, it was enough to tug at Harry's heartstrings.

"Wait," he called just as they were turning to go. "This toad, anything special about it? Or is it just an ordinary toad?"

"Well..." the boy, presumably Neville, started to say, but the girl interrupted.

"As far as magical, I do not believe so, although that would certainly explain how it keeps escaping us," she answered. "I'm Hermione, by the way, Hermione Granger." She then held out her hand.

Smiling, Harry bowed rather than take her hand and at the same time reached out with his senses. It was difficult, sorting through all the life signatures on board, but the fact that they were 'relatively' stationary to him helped him in narrowing it down a little. Sensing for a smaller lifeform amongst the energy of the train, the humans, their pets and other pests made it far more difficult on the other hand. Especially as all the humans and more than one of the pets were magical in nature and thus had a 'larger than normal' energy signature. Nevertheless, it helped even more that out of all the many lifeforms on board the moving train, there was only one toad. Therefore by the time he'd finished bowing to Hermione, he'd narrowed it down to the next car up, somewhere on the rear half, but no closer than that. Harry decided that his very first bit of training was to be in refining his sensing capabilities.

"I'll help you look, Hermione, Neville. That is, if you don't mind?" he offered his help.

"Oh!" she startled for some reason, but seemed to quickly agree. Neville also silently agreed to his help.

"But Harry!" Ron called, drawing a look from the adopted son of Goku and Chichi. The redhead sighed and quieted his protests and got to his feet, grumbling the whole time, "Fine. I'll help too. Stupid toad."

"Trevor," Neville spoke up suddenly.

"Sorry?" Ron snapped.

"Trevor," Neville repeated. "His name is... Trevor."

Harry had already moved to the next compartment over and once there, narrowed down what he was feeling about the toad's location. Thankfully nobody was in the washroom when he found the toad in the toilet, enjoying itself a small bath. He returned to the others even as they were still sorting out Ron's rudeness, Neville's shyness, and Hermione's need to be in control.

"Found him!" he called, holding out the toad, wrapped in a towel in effort to avoid as much contact with the toilet-water-soaked toad as possible.

"Trevor!" Neville called and immediately grabbed the toad with both hands.

"How did you find him so fast?" Hermione asked, part accusing, part startled.

"He was in the toilet down the hall," Harry replied with a shrug.

"Ew!" Ron made face, while Neville suddenly stopped holding the soaked toad so close.

"Well, does Trevor at least have a carrier case or some other place you can keep him so he doesn't keep getting out?" Hermione questioned.

"Uh... oh yeah, but... I forgot where I put it..." Neville answered.

"Maybe your trunk?" Harry suggested with a shrug.

Neville's eyes suddenly lit up and he said, "Oh yeah!"

Hermione gave the boys incredulous looks, and even Ron glanced at them a little cock-eyed. Harry just shrugged again. His father was more than a bit absentminded and so Neville's forgetfulness wasn't any kind of shock to him, and besides it was just rude to make fun of someone for having a bad memory. Going back into their compartment, Neville soon found Trevor's portable habitat, which was actually very nice considering it was magical, and then they all sat down to enjoy the rest of the train ride. A little less than an hour of steady conversation, questions and answers later, a loud growl echoed throughout their compartment.

"What was that?!" three of the children screamed after the growl had stopped.

"When do you think we can eat?" Harry asked instead, rubbing his belly as though in pain. "I'm starving!"

Thankfully the snack cart was already circulating, and Harry's mother had anticipated his voracious appetite. Not as relentless as his brother or father's appetites certainly, but he was a growing boy after all. She had packed the "standard box lunch" for him in his trunk and then also given him plenty of money to use to buy food while on the train. He'd ended up buying everything on the cart. And not one of each, but _everything_ on the cart. The others took a small sampling while bearing witness to the sight of Harry devouring every single piece of candy, treat, and food on the card as well as twice that amount of meat (both beef, chicken, pork and fish), bread and vegetables at the same time. After, he let out a loud burp, but otherwise seemed to be perfectly fine in eating several hundred pounds of food in his less-than-110-lbs frame.

For a little bit, Ron had actually tried to keep up with Harry, as far as consuming the sweets were concerned. He stopped after his tenth Every Flavor Bean, which Harry was popping like, well like candies. The redhead was still lying on the bench, looking a bit green behind his freckles.

Just after Harry had announced to the world how much he'd enjoyed his lunch, the door suddenly slammed open to reveal a boy their age with slicked blonde hair, icy blue eyes and a pale complexion. Behind him was a small entourage, two brutish thugs that looked like they should have been considered 18-year-olds rather than 11-year-olds, another large girl that looked like the two thug's baby sister (or third brother), and a pug-faced girl that was staying at the blonde boy's side no matter what.

"They're saying that Harry Potter is here in this compartment!" the blonde pronounced once he was sure everyone in the compartment was looking at him. A quick glance, his gaze narrowed in on Harry. "So it's true. You're the Boy-Who-Lived?"

Harry's head tilted to the side as he gazed back at the blonde boy and his entourage. After a moment, he cheerfully responded with, "I don't know about this Boy-Who-Lived garbage, but I'm Son Harry, adopted child of Son Goku and his wife Son Chichi. My family name before I was adopted, I've been told, was Potter. So... yes, I am he whom you seek."

Half the occupants of the cabin did a double-take, and then the blonde boy seemed to regather his wits and smirked while holding out his hand. "The name is Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron snorted in laughter, drawing a dark look from young Draco.

"Think my name is funny, do you?" he snarled. "Well, no need to ask who your family is. Red hair, secondhand clothes, you must be a Weasley. Let's see, who else, dopey eyes, droopy brown hair, lardass, you must be Longbottom. Hope the crazy isn't contagious. Hah!" The others behind him all shared in his short laughter. "And what is this? A mug-urk!"

Draco's insult was suddenly and violently cut off as Harry's hand was around his throat, choking the life out of him before he could even say the word. He'd been listening and he'd quickly deciphered what the word his mother had told him to never say really meant. At the same time, he decided that he would no longer tolerate anyone using that word or any derivative of it around him. Not when he could help it at least.

"Do not call her that. She is a witch. A first-generation witch, but a witch. Not a... not that word you were about to call her. Have I made myself clear, Mister Malfoy?" Harry said as he released the other wizard.

Coughing to get his breathing back under control, and rubbing his raw neck, he glared at Harry and with a gesture, suddenly everyone behind him had their wands out and pointed right at Harry's head. Draco, as soon as he felt he could speak without coughing anymore, pulled out his own wand and put it right against Harry's chest.

"Think you're the big man, Potter? Just because you wet yourself and the Dark Lord disappeared when you were a baby? I was going to offer you the hand of friendship, show you the right sort to depend on. Seems you've already chosen the wrong sort."

Harry just stared Draco in the eye, having already erected a chi shield around himself and noted the flow of energy around each of the wands so he might better dodge whatever attacks they might send his way. Despite Draco's wand being flush against his chest, he felt confident in defending against anything the young wizard would use against him. He returned Draco's smirk with one of his own, modeled after that of his father.

After a few tension filled seconds, Draco scoffed and withdrew his wand, saying, "You're not worth it, Potter! I'd challenge you to a duel for what you did to me, but I think instead I'll merely inform my father about just what kind of barbarian you truly are."

"Do what you will, Mister Malfoy," said Harry, "Just don't ever use that insulting word in my presence again, and we won't have any problems."

Draco sneered and turned to leave, the rest of his entourage already exiting the cabin. "Mudblood lover," he muttered under his breath as he crossed the threshold.

Harry's eyes narrowed in anger. He'd always had a temper problem. Not as bad as his brother's admittedly, but he just could not let such a comment go unpunished. Charging a weak blast, he shot it at the retreating blonde's back with a flick of his wrist. Normally he'd be against attacking anyone in the back, but he wasn't looking for an all out fight at the moment. Besides, in his mind, one insult deserved another.

Unfortunately, Harry had severely overestimated how powerful Draco was, as the 'weak' blast exploded against the young wizard's back and sent him flying out the window of the train hallway, and then another few dozen meters beyond before allowing gravity to assert its dominance on the flying body.

Blinking in surprise at what he'd done, Harry exchanged looks with everyone around him. Finally, after extending his senses, he determined that while he was injured, and now traveling downstream in the river they'd been passing over when he'd flown out the window, Draco was still alive and well. Shrugging one more time, he simply said, "He'll live." And then he sat down.

He ignored the entourage running down the hall screaming for a Prefect as easily as he ignored Neville and Ron inching away from him. What he couldn't ignore, however, was Hermione's look of severe annoyance at him. "What?" he asked her with another shrug.

"Was all that really necessary?" she snapped at him.

"My mother explained to me that," he paused and calmed his anger, " _that word_ , is a very ' _not nice_ ' slur for people without magic." He'd said "not nice" with air quotes to give it even further emphasis. "Given the way Ron and Neville have been tossing it around, and from the comments we've heard from chatter in the hallways, I quickly figured out that saying..." he frowned and had to force the word out in a whisper, "... _muggle_ is like calling a dark-skinned person _negro_." His face contorted briefly like he felt he needed to wash his own mouth out with soap. "I've decided that I won't stand for it. I'm sorry about not saying anything about it earlier, Ron, Neville, but it wasn't until I had met Mister Malfoy that I truly understood what that word meant. Please do not use that word around me anymore."

Both boys blinked and exchanged looks. Hermione pursed her lips and uncrossed her arms as she leaned back in her seat. She then bit her bottom lip and seemed to be thinking over everything Harry had just said and done. After a lengthy amount of time, she nodded her head and said, "All right. I can see your point of view on that. Still there was no need to use destructive magic on that bully. We could have just gone to one of the Prefects on board the train. They're supposed to be in the first car."

Harry nodded, acknowledging her point. "All right then, how about we go see them now? And for the record, I didn't use magic."

"Well, true, I did not see you brandishing your wand, but then what was that flash of light that sent him flying out the window?" Hermione asked, completely ignoring the logical side of her brain that said anybody thrown from a moving train should be dead, and therefore she should be accusing this Son Harry of murder rather than calmly acknowledging his simple arguments and statements regarding Malfoy's safety.

"Ki," Harry replied to her question, holding out his hand and charging just enough energy to create a small spark of gold-red energy in the palm of his hand. "Just raw energy in other words. I would have thought a magic user of his power would have been able to detect and defend against it. Who knew he was such a weakling?"

Just as they had made it to the next car of the train, ahead of them a group of older students appeared. Some of them were already in school uniforms and rather noticeable about those were the shiny badges that they had put opposite the school patch on their robes. Just in front of them was the pug-faced girl that had been hanging on to Draco like a leech. As soon as she saw Harry, she pointed right at him and said, "That's him! He's the one that killed Draco right in front of my eyes!"

Harry blinked in surprise.

"Good work Miss Parkinson, we'll take care of this," the one at the lead, his badge displaying a vivid H. The Headboy brandished his wand and pointed it right at Harry. "That's far enough, murderer!"

Harry blinked again, and then took a single step forward to put himself between the wand and his new friends behind him. Then he set about defending himself.

"Draco Malfoy is not dead. A little wet and certainly injured, but not dead. I don't kill people. It's not what I do," said Harry in defense of his actions. "Besides, I thought he was more powerful than he apparently was. That was the same as throwing a spitwad at the back of someone's head!"

"You sent him flying out the window!" Pansy exclaimed hysterically.

Harry shrugged and responded, "My father sends me flying through walls, and my brother sends me flying through mountains on a regular basis. How was I supposed to know that everyone here is so overconfident they don't even bother guarding themselves against sneak attacks?"

The Headboy shot a spell of red light at him. He almost casually lashed out with his left hand and backhanded the spell bolt away. It dissipated against the ceiling of the train car.

"Like that!" Harry grinned. "And thank you for helping make my point!"

Everyone took a step back from Harry after that, and the Headboy was looking at him with absolute fear. Seeing this, he asked, "What?"

"How... h-how d-did you d-do that?" Hermione finally found the courage to ask him.

He shrugged and replied by repeating the motion, but slower and saying, "Like that?"

With his back turned, the Headboy saw an opportunity to finally end this and cast another Stunning Curse at Harry's 'unprotected' back. Before it was even halfway there, Harry spun back around, but rather than knock it away like he had before, having determined that none of the wizards liked seeing that, he charged a shield around his hand and _caught_ it. Normally he wouldn't ever try doing this with something he was so unfamiliar with, but he knew from the first attack that compared to a ki blast, it was pathetically weak. Therefore it was actually possible for him to hold onto it with his 'bare' hand.

Still... there was something... odd... about the energy of the magic spell. It felt kind of like a multi-spectrum beam attack like the Kamehameha or his own Tenshika. But different. Like the multi-spectrum aspect of the energy was working towards a different outcome than increasing the destructive power of the attack. Reaching out with his magical senses, which he'd discovered during his training trip to Namek with his dad, he discovered that it was a spell designed to knock a living creature unconscious. Beyond that, he couldn't tell much, but it was very clear that the energy wanted to put him to sleep and if not him, anything living nearby. Interesting...

"WHAT ARE YOU?!" the Headboy screamed.

Harry finally pulled his attention away from the red ball of energy in his hand. "Sorry. My name is Son Harry, adopted son of Son Goku and his wife Son Chichi. You might have heard of me. I saved the world a few years back."

Everyone went silent for a bit and then one of the others, his badge displaying the letter P, exclaimed, "You're Harry Potter!"

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll say it in the Western way then. My, Name, Is, Harry, **SON** ," he spoke slowly, enunciating every syllable to maximum effect. "I was adopted when I was barely even three years old, and it is the only name I will answer to. If you call me Potter again, I will ignore you. I hope I have made that clear."

"Why would you kill a First Year?!" the Headboy cried, incredulous.

Harry threw up his hands in frustration and shouted, "He's not dead! He's some fifty miles that way," he pointed back over his shoulder. "And stationary. He must have gotten out of the river by now. Huh."

"Harry, how do you know that?" Hermione asked, somewhat nervous all of a sudden.

Frowning, Harry tried to think of someway to explain it in a way the wizards could understand. He couldn't think of one.

"It's hard to explain. Let's just say that I can sense energy and having met Mister Malfoy, I know what his energy feels like and therefore I know precisely where he is in relation to myself. He's definitely still alive, by the way."

"You threw him out the window!" the hysterical girl next to the Headboy accused.

"Yeah, and?" Harry shrugged.

"Um, he's going to miss the opening ceremonies and may even be very sick by the time somebody goes to get him, since we aren't due to arrive until after nightfall," Hermione suggested, hoping to convince the odd boy to maybe change his perspective on a few things.

Frowning, he had to acknowledge the point. And while Draco Malfoy was undoubtedly a bully of epic proportions, he didn't deserve to be sick and while he probably deserved to miss whatever ceremonies there were, he was a First Year like Harry, so there would only be one chance for a "first time at Hogwarts". Grumbling, he finally threw up his hands and said angrily, "Fine! I'll go get the bigoted little twit. But if he says the taboo word around me, I'm dropping him on the way back. More than once! Though I'll probably still catch him."

With that said, Harry turned to the windows on either side of the train car. This one, rather than compartments, was filled with benches on either side like a bus. Checking the windows before anything else, he was disappointed to see that none of them could be opened. Not willing to fight his way to the doors to make his way out in the area between cars, he pointed one hand towards the nearest window and made sure to adjust his energy so there would be no blow back. A small energy blast blew out the window and suddenly the wind was tugging at everyone's clothes and hair and a loud roar filled the train. Before anybody could stop him, he jumped over to the now open window and braced himself against the frame for a moment. Judging where the track was going and where it had been, as well as 'locking on' to several energy signatures that were sure to stay on the train, he launched himself into the air just before the train went into a tunnel that probably went through the whole mountain range before them.

Going up about two hundred feet got Harry enough altitude that he could now see the river they'd passed a few minutes prior, as well as where it curved and bent as it traveled toward the ocean. Powering up to ensure enough speed to find his target and get back in time, a clear energy flame ignited around his small frame as he took off for where he sensed Draco was on the river shore.

It didn't take him long to actually find the blonde ponce. He was by the riverside, laying in the mud, his robes and blonde hair making him look like a half-drowned cat. The way he hissed when Harry landed in front of him added to the image rather nicely.

"Potter!" Draco spat. "What the bloody hell?! You try to kill me, fail, and now come to finish the job!"

Harry just stood further up the shore, out of the mud and crossed his arms, staring at the young wizard expectantly. Then he remembered that Draco wasn't actually there when he'd given his little speech about his family name.

"I didn't try to kill you Draco!" he called down to the wet blonde. "If I had, well, apparently you'd be dead, seeing as all I really did was the equivalent of shooting a spitball at the back of your head. Come on, we have to catch up to the train, otherwise you'll miss the opening ceremonies and all that jazz. Longer you stand there glaring at me, longer it'll be before we catch up to them and you can change your clothes."

Scowling, Draco slowly trudged his way out of the mud, limping slightly in favor of his left side, and up to where Harry stood. It had been a hard swim, and he wasn't used to life-threatening physical exertion, so he was panting by the time he made it next to the warrior's side. Seeing nothing in either of Harry's hands, he snapped between pants, "Where's the Portkey?"

Tilting his head in confusion, Harry just shrugged as he replied, "What's a Portkey?"

Before getting an answer, though, Harry slipped in on Draco's limping left side and slung his left arm over his neck while grabbing the boy by the waist. "Never mind. Hold on tight. Oh, and for the last time, Draco," Harry said, looking the boy in the eye, "my name is Harry Son. Do not call me Potter again, because I won't reply to it."

That having been said, Harry exerted his energy yet again, this time expanding it enough to include Draco. The clear-white flaming aura ignited around them and suddenly they were in the air and gaining altitude at a sharp incline.

"OH! MY! WORD! Bloody HELL!" Draco screamed right in Harry's ear while holding tight to the other boy's grip on him. "YOU CAN FLY?!"

"Yes," Harry said patiently, casually tearing off Draco's death grip from his neck and chest. "Since I was five years old as a matter of fact. You don't have to scream. Oh, and if I were you, I'd try really hard not to puke. Ever spit into the wind? It would be worse than that, not pretty. So stop screaming, and don't puke, those are the rules."

Much quieter now, Draco repeated, "You can fly!"

"This is surprising to you... why?"

"And you threw me out a window with pure energy, not a real spell?!"

"... You are not as dumb as you make yourself out to be, are you?"

"It's Crabbe and Goyle mostly, some of their image rubs off sometimes," Draco replied before reverting back to his awed state. "You can fly, shoot energy with the flick of a wrist, and... we just caught up with the Hogwarts Express?!"

They had in fact caught up with the red locomotive. Unfortunately the two holes Harry had blown in the sides of it earlier appear to have been repaired in the interim, leaving them with no easy way back inside. Harry easily matched the train's speed and set them down on the very first car after the main engine. He peeled Draco off of him and put the young wizard on all fours, shouting for him to hold on tight. He then walked forward a couple steps and punched out a hole in the roof of the car. Then, using both hands, he tore away a large section like most people open their mail, and left the warped metal just hanging there. He then came back over, grabbed Draco by the scruff of his neck and dropped the boy in the hole he'd made before floating down himself.

"You can fly, shoot energy, are faster than the Hogwarts Express, and _you can bend metal with your BARE HANDS_?!" Draco screamed, grabbing the attention of those in the next car down. All the Prefects, the Headboy and the Headgirl crowded into the VIP/Professor's car, which currently had only one other occupant; a quiet man wearing a purple turban.

"POTTER!" the Headboy shouted, only to receive a glare from Harry. He quickly back-stepped and spoke in a quieter, but no less officious tone of voice, "I mean, Mister Son. How did you get in here? And Mister Malfoy, it's very bad form to have your friends make up stories about how another student killed you. Did you plan this prank together, or did you have help? The Weasley Twins perhaps?"

Harry blinked, surprised at the vehemence coming from the teenager. "Weasley twins? You mean Fred and George? Last I heard they were checking out somebody's pet spider. And what prank?"

"What do you mean make up stories?! I'll have you know this brute blasted me out of a window with raw energy alone! And what prank?" Draco exclaimed at the same time.

"How did you even get in here?" the Headboy demanded to know, ignoring their protests.

Both boys, in reply, pointed up. As one, all the Prefects and model students of the school looked up and saw the hole torn in the iron ceiling. After that, the older students didn't have very much to say.

"R-reparo," the Professor cast, pointing his wand at the hole in the roof. As they watched, in a reverse stop-motion manner, the hole repaired and sealed itself so that in the end it appeared it had never been in the first place.

"Professor Quirrell, sir," the Headboy started to speak, but the turban-wearing adult shook his head.

"It is q-quite all-all right," the Professor stuttered. "I, I, I... think... that we c-can let this g-go. ... This... time. I will mention it to P-p-pro-pr-p-p... the Headmaster once w-we arrive. I-if any-any-any... thing needs to b-be d-done, then he can d-deal with it. Un-until we arrive, b-boys, I-I-I suggest you k-keep your heads down."

"Yes, Professor," Harry and Draco said at the same time, shooting a look at the other after.

"All right you two, out," the Headboy ordered, guiding both out of the Professor/VIP car by the back of their necks. "Let's leave the Professor to his privacy. Out!"

Once the two First Years has been shoved out the back end of the Prefect's car, they were let go and allowed to wander like all the other students. Draco glared at Harry. Harry glared right back at Draco, all things happened concerned he still considered the blonde ponce to be a bigoted bully.

"This isn't over Pot...er, Son!" Draco said, looking a bit conflicted after correcting himself.

"I couldn't agree more, Malfoy," Harry smirked back at him. "Train up a bit before you try confronting me again. As my brother can attest, I never hold back in an actual fight. Still, for you, next time I'll try and pull my punches." He then left Draco sputtering there in the hallway.

Only after Harry had moved on to the next car down did Draco whisper, mostly to himself, "I need to tell my father about this." He then hurried back to his cabin and his eagle owl there to write a letter home.

END "Episode 1: The Hogwarts Express"


	2. Hogwarts Sorting Feast

Episode 2: Hogwarts Sorting Feast

 _Hogwarts Express_

 _En Route to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Draco practically ran through three of the train's cars until he finally made it back to his cabin. He ignored Crabbe and Goyle's dumbfounded looks at seeing him, as well as Pansy's insufferable screeching.

"Draco! Oh my god, I thought you were dead! Potter threw you out the window, I went straight to the Prefect, just like you said to do, and they tried to do something but then Potter threw himself out the window, but now you're back and I'm so glad!" Pansy exclaimed and tried to reach out and hug him, only he wasn't there anymore.

No, the moment he was fully in the cabin, Draco lunged for his trunk and dug through it as quickly as he could for parchment, quill, and ink. He'd only narrowly dodged Pansy's attempt at hugging him by taking a seat next to the window with the sought items.

"Draco?" Pansy asked, close to tears.

He ignored her, instead devoting all of his concentration towards the letter he was hurriedly writing.

" _Dear Father,_

 _Unexpected, I know, to receive a report before the first day has even expired. I expect this letter to reach you with the evening post and I apologize here if it is before or during dinner. There have been_ _ **...●*...**_ _developments._ "

Draco paused and considered the ink stain that had resulted in his hesitation. Ultimately he decided that he didn't have time to get a new piece of parchment and start over, which is what he would normally do in such a case. He quickly refreshed his ink and continued where he'd left off.

" _As you anticipated, the Boy Who Lived has returned to our world this year as a First Year at Hogwarts. At the first opportunity, I endeavored to befriend him. I admit, in hindsight, I may have been a bit too—blunt in my initial dealings with him._

 _He was consorting with, of all students aboard this train, the latest Weasley, the Longbottom heir, who is as pathetic as the rumors say, and a mudblood. Rather than retreat quietly and subtly hint at a later meeting as I'd intended, because of some harsh words he said to me, and my own short temper at the time due to other present company, I openly insulted those he was consorting with and ignored whatever warnings he may have given me. This, as could be expected between two Noble Heirs, resulted in an eruption of violence._

 _What follows, Father, is the truth and if you require it, I shall immediately volunteer and undergo Veritaserum dosing to prove it. It is also the reason for the urgency and abruptness of my early report._

 _As I turned to leave, I heard a sound like a spell being silently cast, and then felt a—a force of indescribable power hit the back of my head and propel me forward. At the time, I was facing one of the open pane windows running along the side of the Express and the train just so happened to be passing over a rather large gorge with a deep river running along the base of it. I was propelled forward_ _through_ _the glass and a further distance through the air, enough that I could see the train bridge as far from me as the gate is from our front steps._

 _I survived the fall and the impact with the water only by the grace of Magic Itself. I nearly drowned there in the middle of the river, but happened upon some driftwood that allowed me to stay afloat long enough to see the shore and start making my way there. In a less than dignified—though no less necessary for survival—manner I dragged myself through the mud and far enough up the shore that I was confident I would not be dragged out with the current. When I finally caught my breath, I heard someone call for me._

 _I looked up from the dirt and mud and saw_ **him** _standing there! The same one who had just cast some unknown spell, I thought, and thrown me off the Hogwarts Express! He then casually informed me that he was taking me back to the train so I would not miss the Sorting Feast! I'll write it again, Father. He had left the train, tracked me down inside of a few minutes (at most) and his reasoning was_ _so I would not miss the Sorting Feast_ _with the other First Year Students!_ "

Draco paused at this point and examined himself. Looking up, he saw Pansy close to tears and Crabbe and Goyle staring at him like he was the Dark Lord himself. He needed to get cleaned up and he needed to finish the letter before it was too late to send it. Unfortunately, he couldn't risk these three, bumbling buffoons that they are, would see what he would write next.

"OUT!" he ordered. "I need to change! OUT!"

He only added the explanation for Pansy's benefit. It wouldn't be good of him to alienate the relationship between the Malfoys and the Parkinsons just because he was having a bad day. Alone at last, he quickly changed into his spare uniform and cleaned up some of the blood and mud on his skin with a poultice his mother had insisted he pack. He was glad of it too, despite complaining at the time. Once he was refreshed, he returned to his letter.

" _After telling me to hold on tight, the Boy Who Lived then took to the air and accelerated fast enough for us to catch up with the train just as it exited the tunnel through the mountains. It bears repeating yet again Father;_ _He flew through the air, holding me with one arm, and_ _ **caught up with THE HOGWARTS EXPRESS!**_

 _I would also like to assure you that he did not have a broom, carpet, or other enchanted devices with him of any kind that I could identify. While flying us through the air, with no visible or otherwise discernible effort, he confessed to me that he had not in fact used a spell against me. Nor did he use a wand. I have since confirmed this with the other witnesses to the incident._ _He Did Not Have A Wand In His Hand_ _! He confessed to me that he had used an energy blast that was the equivalent of an itching hex, only less annoying._

 _When we caught up to the train, he sat me down while he casually stood against the wind seeing as we were on the roof of a quickly moving vehicle. He then, with his bare hands and no other aid, casually reached down and tore open a hole in the ironclad roof of the train car we stood upon. Once a hole big enough had been crafted, he physically manhandled me and dropped me into the cabin below. He then_ _floated_ _down through the hole with no difficulty whatsoever._

 _Allow me to assure you of the facts, Father. Had I been standing or in any position other than what he'd placed me in, the wind was strong enough to knock me off the train all over again. The iron of the train car was and is still solid. It was not weakened and there was no one working it from the inside. He did not use any magic devices when retrieving me from the riverside, and we did fly. Under_ _his_ _power!_

 _I shall put forth my next report as soon as possible, Father._

 _Give Mother my best wishes._

 _Your Son,_

 _Heir of the Malfoy Fortunes,_

 _Draco Lucius Malfoy_

 _PS: The Boy Who Lived, while acknowledging them as his birth parents, has informed me that he no longer considers himself to be 'Harry Potter'. If he is addressed by anyone by that name, he has informed me that he will quite pointedly ignore them. He has been adopted by his remaining family and considers them to be his true family. The Boy Who Lived calls himself, and will only answer to the name, Harry Son._ "

Signing and then sealing the letter, he roused his eagle owl from its cage, communicated the urgency of the delivery and then opened the cabin window to allow it the freedom to fly and deliver it's vital message. Once that was done, Draco collapsed in his seat and tried to get some rest before the end of the journey. He dreaded what instructions his father would have for him next.

 _Same Time_

Making his way back down to the last cabin of the last car was a rather novel experience for Harry. Everyone was avoiding him, but they couldn't help staring at him at the same time. In his wake he left whispers, making it sound like a giant snake was following along behind him. Once he got to his cabin, he was somewhat surprised to see Hermione, Ron and Neville there still.

"YOU JUMPED OUT THE WINDOW!" Hermione screamed at him the moment the door was open.

"I did," he nodded, closing the door behind him.

"AND YOU'RE STILL ALIVE?!" she screamed, getting up from her seat to confront him. He nodded.

"So is Mister Malfoy, if anyone is particularly interested. We gave the Professor a bit of a scare, but we're both just fine," Harry told them.

"Professor?" Hermione repeated, still looking a bit... unhinged.

"I think the Headboy called him Professor Quirrell," he said in reply.

"Professor Quirrenus Quirrell?! He's famous for all sorts of theoretical work in the subject of Defense Against The Dark Arts! He must be teaching this year, oh how marvelous!" Hermione smiled and clapped her hands.

Harry tilted his head to the side, adjusting his view of Hermione slightly. "Are you... feeling OK, Hermione?"

"As well as can be expected when I've witnessed one boy push another off a moving train and then jump out the window a minute later and say that they're both perfectly all right," she answered, sounding a bit stressed.

"You think she's a bit... y'know, mental?" Ron 'whispered' to Neville beside him.

Neville shrugged.

"Well how do you expect me to react?" she exclaimed. "I know that people often say the young think they're invincible, but I don't think I've ever met someone that _put it to the test_!"

"I'm not invincible," Harry stated, sitting down opposite the two boys. "And I know it all too well."

"Then why...?!" she let out an inarticulate scream.

"Hermione, have you ever heard of the World Martial Arts Tournament?" he asked in a surprising change of subject.

Brushing back her hair and taking a seat next to him, she answered, "Of course. It was a practice where martial artists of all pedigrees gathered each year to compete in a standard tournament. It was discontinued a little over a decade ago. Something about the last tournament getting out of hand or something."

"Have you ever seen footage from that final tournament?" Harry prompted.

"Well..." Hermione trailed off, having to actually think about it as martial arts wasn't really something she'd ever been interested in. The only reason she knew as much as she did was because history was most definitely her thing and the last tournament had been a rather historic moment, without question.

"My adoptive father and my first sensei were the two opponents in that final tournament. If you've seen any bit of the footage at all, then everything I've done so far should start making more sense to you."

"I... oh. Truly?" she looked at the boy in a whole new light.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Ron asked. A beat later, Neville asked, "What's mackerel art?"

"He's kidding, right?" Harry asked Hermione, nodding his head toward the pure-blooded boy.

"So your father taught you how to fly and shoot energy from your hands like he did at the tournament?" she asked, ignoring his question entirely.

"Well, actually, it was Piccolo, the green guy in the purple clothes, that taught me and my brother initially. I recently gained further training with my father and brother separately, but yeah I learned the basics years ago, and that's how I jumped from a moving train and tracked down Mister Malfoy and knew he was OK the whole time. And can do this," he held up his hands and generated a small ball of ki between them as further demonstration.

"Whoa!" Ron and Neville both exclaimed. "You can do wandless magic? And you're not even a real student yet?"

"It's not magic," Harry and Hermione both explained. They glanced at one another, shrugged and grinned.

"It's ki, life energy," Harry went on, snuffing out the small ball of golden light. "In fact, if you guys wanted, I could probably teach you how to do it yourselves. If you wanted."

"Are you being serious right now?" Hermione grabbed him and shook him a bit.

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered, "Wandless magic is the stuff of legends! I'm in!"

"Uh... me too? Please?" Neville actually raised his hand.

"Are you guys sure about this?" Harry eyed Neville's baby fat, Ron's skinny arms and legs, and Hermione's general demeanor as a bookworm with much worry. "I mean, this is _not_ going to be easy. And I certainly won't hold back on you when we're training."

"If the results are worth it, I will do whatever it takes!" Hermione stated. Although privately she admitted her reasons for wanting to learn had as much to do with memories of childhood bullies as it did with sating her insatiable curiosity.

"Well, all right then," he nodded, making the decision just like that. "Understand though that if you quit or refuse to do any of the training, you're out. Just like that. We can still be friends and all that, I just won't train you anymore, all right?"

"All right," all three nodded their heads.

Harry grinned and scratched his chin, thinking out loud, "I wonder how strong I can train you guys up before Gohan arrives. Hope I can surprise him, it would certainly make up for how he treated me this past summer."

"Who is Gohan?" Ron asked, munching on some left over snacks.

"He's my brother, well, adoptive brother, but still my brother. We've been through a lot together. Not to mention what's coming. Our Mom said she'd see about getting Gohan here on a scholarship or something. Unfortunately it's going to take a few weeks to get everything sorted out, but either way I know for a fact that Gohan will be joining me at Hogwarts. Probably before October, hopefully sooner."

"So what is the first step?" Hermione asked, bouncing in her seat.

"Ah, ah, ah, all things in good time. I think I've put enough holes in this train for one day. No, once we're at the school, I'll scout out an area where we won't cause too much damage and that's where we'll start. It might take a couple days, but once we get started, I'm sure you'll all make loads of progress."

"Speaking of being at school," Hermione commented, looking out the window. "I think we're almost there. You lot had better change, they said in my letter that we're to arrive in our school uniform already."

Harry grimaced. He hated his school uniform. Too restricting with no real purpose.

"I'll go ahead and let you boys get changed then," Hermione stood up, a slight flush to her features as she made her way past Harry and out the door. Neville also stood up, realizing that his trunk was in a different cabin.

Ron stood up and turned to get his uniform out of his own trunk. By the time he turned back around, Harry was already dressed and fiddling with the tie. "How did you...?" he started to ask.

"What?" Harry said when the question was left unasked, still fiddling with the tie.

"How did you get dressed so fast?" Ron finally asked.

"Same way I get dressed every day," he answered with a shrug. Finally he just wrapped it around his neck in a simple slip-knot and left it alone after that. "See you at the feast, Ron!" he called as he left the cabin, intending on rejoining Hermione and Neville wherever it was they'd gone to.

An hour later, after departing the train, meeting Cousin Hagrid again, a short boat ride, climbing a small number of stairs, and a short wait in the anteroom while talking with a couple of ghosts that had somehow escaped King Yemma's notice, Harry and the other First Years were standing in front of the whole school, the Teacher's table behind them, while a stool with a pointed hat on it was placed before them.

Professor McGonagall, who had met them at the door to the castle and escorted them into the Great Hall, turned to face the First Years, a scroll in her hand. She was an older witch, her dark hair tied up into a tight bun under a more modern pointed hat. Her emerald green robes hid any other features, but the way she spoke and moved told Harry that he'd better obey anything she told him. His mother often spoke and moved in the same manner.

"When I call your name, step forward and take a seat on the stool," the Professor told the younger children, "I will then place the Sorting Hat on your head and it will then sort you into the House you will be joining. After, wait for me to take the Hat off your head, and only then may you join your new House at their respective tables."

Unrolling the scroll with a flick of her wand, she began to read off the list of names, "Abbott, Hannah."

Harry didn't really pay much attention as to who went where, although he did try and match the names to the faces. It was a trait his father was rather... infamous for, not being able to recognize people he didn't see on a daily basis. It was somewhat a note of embarrassment for the Son family that the father and husband wouldn't know who you were unless he saw you at least once every day.

When Professor McGonagall called the same name for the third time in a row, he frowned and looked to see who was holding up the process. Only to realize that everybody was looking right back at him. A moment to think about it, he realized the name being called was "Potter, Harry". With a sigh he rolled his eyes and raised his hand.

"Yes, Mister Potter?" Professor McGonagall called on him, a note of stress and restrained anger in her voice.

"My family name is Son, Madam Professor," he calmly informed her. "My name is Son Harry, adopted child of Son Goku and his wife Son Chichi, daughter of the Ox King, ruler of Fire Mountain. Because you Westerners like to put the family name last, you may call me Harry Son. _For the last time_ ," he stressed every syllable of each word, "I will _not_ respond to the name Harry Potter. My name is Harry Son. I will not respond to the name Mister Potter either. I am the adopted son of Son Goku and proud of it. I believe there are still a few names before you get to mine, Madam Professor."

Frowning, Professor McGonagall turned to look behind them, presumably at the Headmaster. Harry didn't bother turning around to check. Letting out a heavy sigh of annoyance, she turned back to the list and read off the next few names. After they had been sorted, looking right at Harry, she read off, "Harry, Son."

He smiled and bowed slightly before walking calmly up to the stool and taking a seat. The Sorting Hat was immediately placed upon his head, falling down over his eyes. Instantly he felt a presence in his mind. He'd only felt something like this once before, when his father had demonstrated his new mind-reading ability, as well as using it to copy Gohan's memories of his adventures on Namek. Recognizing it for what it was, Harry's mind reacted automatically, by treating the un-asked-for telepathic probe as an attack, and responded in kind.

The Sorting Hat went flying off his head, leaving a trail of smoke in its wake, landing on the Head Table, right in front of the Headmaster. The 'mouth' of the Hat was trembling as it whispered urgently to the elderly Professor. Shortly, the long-bearded wizard was nodding his head and saying, "Ah, I understand the difficulty there. Yes, yes, allow me to clear this right up."

Standing to his feet, Professor Dumbledore started making his way around the Head Table to where Harry Son was still seated. As he walked, he raised his voice to explain to the whole school the situation.

"My apologies for the unorthodox Sorting this year. It would seem that Mister Son here, has rather extensive natural Occlumency defenses protecting his mind. For those of you unaware, Occlumency is the magical skill of protecting one's thoughts against mental attack as well as from the magical skill known as Legilimency. It also helps rather well as a memory aid. Anyway, as it would seem, Mister Son, your mental defenses are, needless to say, rather powerful. Enough that your response to any probe of any kind is met with immediate and... overwhelming force. I trust, however, that you do have a way of... lowering these defenses?"

Harry looked up at the stereotypical image of a classic wizard standing before him. He said nothing.

"Mister Son, may I place the Sorting Hat on your head so that it might Sort you?" Professor Dumbledore asked.

Harry hesitated, and slowly nodded his head.

Professor Dumbledore nodded, and hesitated a bit himself before asking another question, "And will you allow the Sorting Hat to search your mind and memories for the traits required to properly sort you? I assure you, Mister Son, no one else, not even myself, am privy to the information the Sorting Hat may or may not come across while it is Sorting you."

Frowning, Harry just nodded his head one final time, giving his permission. This time, forewarned and prepared for it, as well as having been asked and given permission, Harry restrained his automatic response to the telepathic probe as the Sorting Hat did it's work.

 _Oh my... word...!_ the Sorting Hat whispered, whether in his ear or in his head, he was having a difficult time telling, mostly from being distracted by holding back his own mental defenses. Therefore he didn't respond as he might normally have to the odd comment.

 _You certainly have seen your share of the universe. Held your part in saving it too. With more bravery, loyalty, intelligence and cunning than any of the Founders themselves had, alone or apart. I have never seen the like. I cannot discern any quality you have more than any other, young hero. You must choose. Where do you wish to learn? With Gryffindor? With Hufflepuff? With Ravenclaw? Or with Slytherin?_

Harry thought about it for a moment, no longer needing to hold back his mental defenses as the Hat was no longer probing. Finally, he thought/asked the Hat, ' _Why do I have to choose any at all? Why can't I be in more than one House? Or even all of them? From what I've heard about these Founders, they created the school. That means they were teachers, and I don't think they only had apprentices. I think they all taught all the students, otherwise there would be four schools instead of four houses in one school. Why can't I just be a student of Hogwarts instead of a grifter, puffer, bird, or slither?'_

The Hat was silent for almost an entire minute. When it finally spoke again, Harry could tell that it was now speaking out loud so the whole school could hear.

"THIS CHILD, THIS STUDENT IS A STUDENT OF HOGWARTS! SO MOTE IT BE!" It then flew off his head again, though in a more intentional and less uncontrolled way than before. The Headmaster was still standing in front of Harry, so it didn't have far to fly as it landed on the old wizard's head and seemed to have a rather intense, one-sided conversation with the man. After it was done, it flew back over to Professor McGonagall's hand and seemed to be waiting for the next student.

The whole school was quiet, anxiously awaiting the Headmaster's next words.

Fully aware of the attention placed on him and the Hogwarts Student still sat on the stool, Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat and gestured for Harry to stand, while whispering to him, "Mister Son, if you'd please stay behind when the other students take their leave, I will personally escort you to your quarters for the foreseeable future. Now please, bear with me for a moment longer."

Turning to the school, he raised his voice and did his best to explain what precisely had just occurred. Arguably a first in the long history of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and yet according to the Sorting Hat, and through said medium Hogwarts herself, there has in fact been precedent. Nevertheless, whether intentional or not, young Mister Harry Son had just put the spotlight squarely on him in just his first few hours in returning to the Wizarding World. Dumbledore had always been afraid of this, ever since the young boy's parents had been killed and he'd been made a hero just for surviving.

"Again, my apologies for the delay, everyone," Professor Dumbledore said to the entire school. "It would seem that I have just been reminded, rather bluntly, that this school is in fact just that. One school. Not four schools in one building. Mister Son here is... somewhat unique, in that he is the embodiment of each and every one of the Founders. In fact, I daresay, and the Sorting Hat would agree, that if the Founders had the opportunity to teach Mister Son, they would either fight each other to the death for the opportunity to teach him, or they would pool their resources and teach him everything they knew or that he could learn. Because of this, and because of the imbalance it would create with Hogwarts itself if Mister Son were to join one House over the others, it has been decided that he shall be a student of Hogwarts, but belong to none of the Houses."

There was an immediate uproar, mostly from the teachers still at the Head Table ironically, though it was not limited to there either. It was quieted the moment Professor Dumbledore raised his hand, impressing everyone with exactly how much respect the man wielded.

"Perhaps I should have phrased that differently," the Headmaster let out a brief self-depreciating chuckle. "Mister Son will not belong to just one of the Houses. It is the same as saying that he shall belong to all of the Houses. His sleeping quarters shall be the VIP suite in the First Tower, also known as the lowest tower nearest the lake. Each day, if Mister Son so chooses, he may sit at each of the House tables, alternating between days or meals at his discretion. I will personally draw up Mister Son's class schedule and as for the House Cup... I believe rather than points, Mister Son will be granted either concessions or demerits, based on the same principles. In any case, for the time being, Mister Son does require a place to sit in order to properly enjoy our Welcoming Feast. Who would like to volunteer?"

Instantly, all four tables exploded with noise as every student in the building tried to volunteer their respective table, all of them at once. Unfortunately, holding up a hand, or even both hands just wasn't doing it for the Headmaster any longer. He finally resorted to drawing his wand and unleashing a noise that was an explosion of its own. Harry, standing right next to it, wiggled his pinky finger in both ears to try and alleviate his brief deafness.

"Well," Professor Dumbledore spoke to the student at his side, "it would seem Mister Son, that you have your pick of seats. And please, everyone, understand that no matter what choice is made, there will be those disappointed, so prepare yourselves accordingly and take no offense from it, as we still have some students awaiting to be Sorted. Mister Son?"

"Uh..." Harry looked all around and then shrugged and walked straight forward and sat down on the right hand side benches, putting him at the Hufflepuff table. "You guys don't mind, right?" Seeing the open smiles and friendly faces all around him, Harry felt that he had indeed made the correct decision.

After that had been taken care of, the Sorting resumed and was thankfully resolved with no further interruptions. Professor Dumbledore, with a few words, then started the feast and allowed everyone to tuck in. Once the feast had started, Harry was bombarded from all sides by all sorts of questions and comments of all kinds. He did his best to be polite, but honestly most of his attention was on the food that had magically appeared before him.

Growing up with two Saiyans, and a woman more than able to keep up with their voracious appetites, Harry had gained a rather advanced metabolism. While he wasn't entirely able to keep up, he could hold his own and ate roughly three times as much as what any normal boy his age would, let alone could eat. He also only needed about six hours of sleep, at a maximum. On average, he got between three and four hours of sleep per day, and most of that came after rather intense training sessions where he'd used up most of his energy. As such, when the feast came to a close, most of the students were ready to fall asleep right there at the table, while Harry was still wide awake and planning on exploring the castle a bit before taking a nap right before sunrise.

After the feast, Professor Dumbledore had some announcements to make. "Ahem — just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you," he began. "First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins. "I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the 3rd floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Harry frowned, and then calmly raised his hand, standing up from his seat in order to draw more immediate attention.

"And now..." the Professor stopped in what he was about to say and looked right at Harry. "Yes, Mister Son?"

"Why?" Harry asked, lowering his arm, yet remained standing.

"I beg your pardon, Mister Son, why what?" the wizened old wizard asked.

"Why do people have to die just for walking down a corridor?" he clarified.

Professor Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling like little suns all of a sudden. "My, my, my, it would appear that it is indeed my night to make so many misunderstood statements. I apologize yet again for my need to adhere to the obscure and dramatic subtleties of our unique language."

"Of course there will be no actual punishment for any student brave or cunning enough to ignore this warning and go immediately to the 3rd Floor Corridor off the right-hand side of the Grand Staircase. There is, however, a rather vicious beast, which I will at this time refrain from identifying, being kept at the end of said corridor. This beast is not a pet and does not like the company of strangers and has in fact been trained to defend it's location most... shall we say violently?"

"Madam Pomphrey," Professor Dumbledore gestured back at the Head Table, pointing out a matronly woman in a white apron and cap over her robes, "while a most extraordinary healer and our school nurse, is not a miracle worker and while fully qualified to treat most everyday and quite a few uncommon injuries, there is a rather severe limit to her power and I would feel better if we all did our best not to test those limitations as much as possible. So again I say, there will be no punishment for any student that does not heed this warning. Nevertheless, the warning has been given and have no doubt that if you do ignore it, there will undoubtedly be most severe consequences."

At that, everyone started whispering and talking amongst themselves about the statement just made, as well as the fact that Harry Son had just openly stood before Albus Dumbledore and questioned his word right to his face! Once the noise had reached a certain level, the Headmaster interrupted it with merely another raised hand.

"I trust this answers your question, Mister Son?" he asked, eyes still twinkling.

"How strong is it? Mind if I fight it?" Harry questioned with an almost eager grin. He certainly wasn't going to go around killing helpless monsters, but if he'd found a 'sparring partner' already, he was eager for the challenge.

"I would prefer that you not Mister Son," Dumbledore said, "After all, there is a purpose for it being placed where it is and I would rather not have to replace it so soon."

"Aw, shucks," Harry snapped his fingers and let out a disappointed sigh, then sat down.

"Now then, as I was saying, let's end the evening with a rousing rendition of the school song..."

After everything was over and done, the students were released and allowed to march off to their respective House dormitories and the warm beds awaiting them there. All except for one student that stood out from all the rest, of course. The Prefects for the various Houses took charge of the First Years. Harry, meanwhile, stayed where he was sat at the Hufflepuff table, remembering that the Headmaster wanted him to stay after so he could show him where he would be sleeping while here at Hogwarts.

Professor Dumbledore walked up to Harry once the last people had left the Great Hall.

"Well, my boy, as always you strive to break the mold," he said, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles. "Thankfully, Hogwarts, in anticipation of someone such as yourself already has a place prepared. If you will follow me, I shall show you your residence and how you might access it. I assure you, your personal items have already been delivered and are there waiting for you."

"Lead the way, Professor Dumbledore," Harry said with a smile, getting to his feet and following along behind. They soon departed for the Grand Staircase. They only went up one level before walking down a corridor that while it seemed to be rather highly-trafficked, wasn't used by the students at all. This was further evidenced by the fact that they had just walked past the Teacher's Lounge.

"Uh, where exactly is this, sir?" Harry asked as they went up another flight of stairs, these going much higher than one flight, and then a brief platform that connected with a spiral staircase that was fairly obvious inside the tower the Headmaster had mentioned previously.

"Hogwarts has thirteen towers. The Gryffindor and Ravenclaw dormitories happen to occupy two of them. There is also what we call the Astronomy Tower, the tallest, and the Watchtower, the widest and most visibly noticeable. We are currently in what I like to call the First Tower. Its where visiting VIPs and the Professors that choose not to sleep near their offices can choose instead to live during the school year. One of the... less popular VIP suites has been cleared out for your use. Not to worry, not to worry. There is plenty of room for all, as I'm sure if Hogwarts were to receive any VIPs, they would prefer one of the grander suites. And one that just so happens to not be at the very top of the tower that they would have to walk to and from on a daily basis."

"Ah, yes, I see," Harry acknowledged.

"Here we are," the Professor said as they reached the top landing and a full set of armor standing in front of a heavy wooden door.

"Password?" the armor clanked, its visor opening and closing as its 'mouth'.

"Dragonballs."

Harry nearly choked on his own saliva and shot Dumbledore a worried expression. How much did these people know about him and his family already? If they knew about the Dragonballs, then they certainly must know about the Androids and what was coming.

"Er, yes, well," Dumbledore seemed oddly uncomfortable all of a sudden. "Let's just say that the previous Headmaster who set the password for this suite had a very... odd sense of humor and we haven't had time to change things up very much. Pardon the language you'll have to be using to access your suite, Mister Son."

Harry just shrugged, trying to be nonchalant and watching as the suit of armor moved to the side and the door swung inwards all on its own. It was only then that he noticed there was no doorknob or handle. Interesting.

"Now, is there anything else I can get you or answer for you, Mister Son?" Professor Dumbledore asked as they entered the suite to look around.

Taking a quick look around, amongst other things, Harry saw a four-poster bed with covers and curtains, an open area, a fireplace, other furniture, and another door opposite the one behind them that was open enough for him to see a basic layout bathroom. Anything more specific than that, he either ignored it or glazed over it as his eyes moved on to just the essentials.

"No, I should be OK. Thank you Professor. What time is breakfast in the morning? I'm assuming, from what I know of boarding schools, that breakfast will be served in the Great Hall to all students?" he asked in turn.

"Of course," the Professor answered, "As are lunch and dinner. Occasionally we'll have a celebratory feast in honor of particular holidays. Such feasts will be announced ahead of time, not to worry. I shall endeavor to have your class schedule completed for you by end of breakfast tomorrow, Harry. And if there is anything that you need or have questions about, feel free to seek me out and ask me anything, anytime. My door is always open."

"Of course Professor, thank you Professor," Harry bowed once and then saw the Headmaster out.

Now that he was alone in his new dorm room, Harry considered what to do. He also took in a few moments to just take in his surroundings, looking much closer at what he'd skimmed over before. His trunk was at the end of the bed, sticking out into the open area a bit, which thankfully was just cold flagstones. If it had been some kind of rug or carpet, Harry worried that he might have ripped it out just to avoid damaging it. As it was, there were a few pieces of furniture still in the way, so after moving his trunk to the bathroom, just inside the towel closet as a matter of fact, he moved the two stuffed chairs and loveseat to the wall on either side of the two doors. To him, the chairs didn't really serve much of a practical purpose in the first place. There was also a writing desk and a chair as part of that. He left those alone as they were already in a nook next to the window so weren't really in the way in the first place.

Free space cleared, Harry then pushed the bed so it's side was flush against the wall, if only to maximize the space and discovered he now had a good twelve square feet to work with, give or take. Good thing the ceiling was much higher than average, a good fifteen to twenty feet between floor and the top of the ceiling. The top of the ceiling, of course, going to a conical point with only a few necessary rafter support beams in the way. Harry made a mental note to avoid damaging those.

Taking off his school robes, Harry put his training gi back on and added a few weights here and there, just to keep him warmed up. He stretched for a bit and tested out the open space to see exactly how much room he had to work with while training in private. He had only a little more on the spaceship with Dad on their way to Namek, and at least this place didn't have a giant control console in the middle of the room, no all the stuff to avoid was on the outer edges, so at least that much stayed the same.

Harry sat down in mid-air, legs crossed and began meditating on focusing his magic and his ki together. He couldn't get them to mix, in that they were like oil and water. Thankfully when he lit a spark to either, they did not explode or create pools of flaming water.

No, the best he could do was use his ki to boost his physical form and use energy the same as his friends and family did, while he used his magic to – well, to create... other effects. Usually random bouts of telekinesis, teleportation, and transfiguration (as he'd recently learned it was called).

That was the real reason he'd been excited and looking forward to attending Hogwarts, despite missing out on training for the Androids in three years. The chance to learn real magic, actual spells to control this force inside of him that while he could control it, had little clue about what to do with it, it was well worth it. Even if it meant that he would be weaker and thus unable to help out in the actual fighting. Besides, he may just surprise everybody by learning that magic could actually help out in the fights after all.

After a few hours meditating and working on his energy control, Harry stood on the stone floor and began going through a few katas he'd learned from his father. Katas was the term Krillin used anyway, while Goku and Master Roshi both just called them 'moves'. Basically, it was just ways to move his body in repetitive motions that developed body memory reactions that would help in a full out fight. Mostly it was punching and kicking with a few blocks thrown in for moderation. The trick was to start off slow, making sure you're doing it right, and then speed up, getting faster and faster each time, with the absolute least amount of energy expended at all times.

Pretty soon he was working up quite a sweat. Once he felt he'd sufficiently warmed up, he began shadow boxing within the limited confines of his room. Strictly speaking, what he was doing wasn't boxing, but it was a better term than 'doing katas' like Krillin talked about. Basically, he was flashing all over the room, trying to hit his own after-images, while also having those after-images block and counter. It was a trick he'd only ever seen Piccolo-sensei pull off, and he was equally confident that it hadn't been a clone trick either.

He wasn't sure if he was doing it right or not, but after about an hour or two of it, he felt that familiar feel-good burn deep in his muscles and knew that he'd at least improved on his speed just a bit. So, after one hundred straight minutes of shadow boxing, he decided to cool down with a nice relaxing run. He stepped out of his room, glad to see that the suit of armor had obligingly already moved to the side, and then took off at a nice relaxing pace. Of course, he mused as he passed the 'sleeping' portraits and 'slouching' suits of armor, a nice relaxing pace for him after a good training session would be nothing but a barely-visible blur with a stiff breeze to follow ten seconds after the fact.

To his family and their friends, he was sure that they would say he was jogging slow and going easy on himself. Unlike their father, Harry and his brother Gohan were under no illusions about just how different they and their friends were from the rest of the Earth's population. He still remembered hanging with those orphans hiding from the truancy officer. And then there were also their visits to Bulma's house. Despite Capsule Corporations reputation of being cutting edge science and all that, they still lived in the mostly normal city and when Bulma and their mother went out shopping, the few times Harry and Gohan had gone out with them, the boys had quickly learned the limits of the average pedestrian compared to either of themselves.

Passing the Grand Staircase, Harry decided to go around the Castle the 'long way' and started exploring while he cooled down from his evening training. First stop, the 'forbidden' third floor corridor on the right hand side of the staircase. Door at the end of the corridor was locked, but unfortunately the door itself was made from wood. Having been blasted through a mountain more than a few times, this hardly presented an obstacle for him.

The giant three-headed dog chained to the trap door it was sleeping on, however, did give him pause.

"Aww, aren't you cute!" he said in his talking to babies/animals voice. He made sure to give each head a thorough rub, ignoring the snapping jaws, and then continued his cool down/jog/explorations of the castle.

Following his nose, he quickly found the kitchens, and a brief examination with his magic senses told him all he needed about how to get in, apparently you had to tickle the pear on the painting covering the entrance. After that, he sort of just went all over, finding rooms and corridors in the least likely places. He also figured out that the walls pretending to be doors? They were actually doors! They just happened to be on the ceiling and went to attic-like spaces filled with lots of old stuff.

On the Seventh Floor, he found a door that only appeared when you walked in front of it three times within one minute of each time, and inside he found the most amazing training facility he'd ever seen outside the Capsule Corporation! By the same token, he also found the Thirteenth Tower, which was actually invisible and there were no corridors leading to it from the Grand Staircase. He couldn't get inside, but he did find it. He also mapped all of the dungeons in his memory, but there weren't that many secrets down there to discover. Sure, loads of secret passages to all over the castle and beyond, but nothing as cool as an invisible tower or the amazing training room!

Done with his explorations, Harry made his way back to his room, actually feeling a bit tired. After a quick shower, he stole a glance at a clock and saw that it was only three in the morning. Shrugging, he figured that should be more than long enough, he jumped in his bed and crashed, asleep in moments. His dreams were filled with excitement and wonder as his mind raced with all the possibilities of what he would soon learn and all the training opportunities there were.

END "Episode 2: Hogwarts Express"


	3. Hogwarts Classes

Episode 3: Hogwarts Classes

Harry awoke with the sun, the light shining in through the window to hit him right in the eye just as it crested the mountains peak in the distance. He opened his eyes and smiled.

Jumping to his feet, he ran to the bathroom and took care of things. A few minutes later, he was dressed in his normal training clothes and was making his way out of his room and using the secret passage he'd discovered right outside his room to take him down some steps and then a straight shot to a wall behind a set of armor that was right outside the Great Hall. He wasn't the first student there, but not a lot were, despite breakfast having started over ten minutes prior.

This morning he decided to sit at the table on the far right of the entrance, which happened to be the Gryffindor table. A short time later, Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom walked in and sat down on either side of him. He shared brief greetings with the pair, but kept most of his attention on the mountain of food he was devouring.

It was in the midst of breakfast that the Professors arrived and those that were also Head of House approached the student tables with stacks of parchment in hand. These were the class schedules. Traditionally passed out the first Monday of the semester in the exact middle of breakfast, so as to be sure to get as many students together in one place as possible.

Harry, however, did not have his class schedule passed out by either Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, nor Professor Sprout. His was hand delivered by none other than the Headmaster himself, Professor Dumbledore.

"Ah, Mister Son, there you are," the Headmaster said as he walked up behind the First Year Student. "I have your class schedule here with me. If you have any questions, please seek me out immediately, I'll do my best to accommodate you."

"Thank you Professor," Harry said after he'd swallowed and taken the offered parchment. He glanced it over and then frowned. Before the Professor had even taken his third step, he called out, "Professor?"

Pivoting, rather than continuing to walk on his third step, the Headmaster turned to face the student and replied, "Yes, Mister Son?"

"Why do I have so few classes? Is it because I'm not with one of the Houses?" he asked, innocence personified.

Professor Dumbledore stared for a bit and then, ashamedly, had to do a double-take. "I'm sorry, Mister Son, but are you complaining that you have been given too light of a class load?"

"Professor, my mother is quite insistent that neither I, nor my brother wind up like our father... who admittedly only has one skill set," Harry admitted, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. "Until I got my school letter, she'd intended on me being a doctor or a lawyer, and Gohan on being a research scientist or Rhodes scholar. Now I think she's shifted gears and wants me to be the next Merlin or something worthwhile at least."

"My education so far, between adventures with my father and brother, has been no less than ten classes daily, with another two thrown in part time or on the weekends rather than daily. In Western grading schemes, I'm at the 8th Grade level. Well, full disclosure, I've actually completed all the exams for the 8th Grade level and would be starting the 9th Grade level this year. That is the equivalent of High School, or your Fourth Year students if that helps any."

Standing now, and walking alongside the Professor as they made their way to the Head Table, Harry continued, "I'm certain, of course, that I'm not ready for Fourth Year material, not having even begun my First Year, but I trust nevertheless that my point has been made. My mother expects reports on how my classes, my education, are going and is proceeding. Six courses spread out over a block format? That is not going to cut it with her!"

"Now," he whispered, "between you and me, I'd love the extra free time, give me time to train and explore a bit more. However," he stopped and took a deep breath as the Headmaster took his seat while Harry stood in front of him across the table, "my mother would—strongly—disagree with me having too much... er, free time. I'm just trying to save us all a lot of headaches and spare our eardrums, Professor."

"Ah, yes, I can see your point," the Professor nodded.

"And before you say anything like how you know best and tradition and that you are the teachers and have made your careers out of teaching young wizards and witches such as myself and my classmates. I think I should warn you that my father's sensei's sister is a witch of some renown. Baba Uranai."

Dumbledore choked and nearly had an aneurism right there before everyone's eyes. Harry patiently waited for him to regain control of himself before continuing.

"She's a somewhat famous fortune teller from what I hear. She's helped my father out more than once, I can tell you. And because of that, she's sometimes been a house guest and well, you know women Professor. They do love to talk."

Dumbledore frowned and nodded. The twinkle in his eyes were all gone, they now held a cold, calculating strength in them that Harry had to admire. It was the same sort of look Piccolo often had in his eyes. Especially when in the middle of a fight where he was more or less evenly matched and was figuring out a strategy for winning as totally as possible.

"Thank you for the information, Mister Son," Professor Dumbledore said after some time. "If you'll please hand that back to me, I shall rework your schedule a bit. I'm afraid that I'll have to put you in some classes with older students, as in order to meet your ten course minimum, I would have to put you in nearly all of our elective courses, and put in a request to the Ministry for a special exception to be made. That would, unfortunately, delay your attending classes for upwards of the next month."

Harry winced and shivered at the possibilities such a delay could incur.

"So we will have to do with only two extra courses," the Professor decided. "In your Third Year, when electives are normally allowed, we can work out the means of granting you the full load. Now, let's see here... yes, we'll have to move that around, put you in with the Slytherins there, the Ravenclaws there, the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors there and there, and then the Third Years for those on Tuesday and Thursday respectively. Yes, that should work out fine." He handed Harry back the parchment.

"I have put you in the Arithmancy and Ancient Runes elective classes. Those are the only ones that would fit, I'm afraid. Our other electives are during times when your First Year classes would already be in session, and without the special permission from the Ministry, these remain the only options."

Looking the class schedule over, Harry nodded and smiled. "Thank you Professor. I'm sure this will do fine. I promise not to let you down."

"I'm sure you won't, my boy, I'm sure you won't," he smiled back, the twinkle in his eyes once again.

After Harry returned to the student tables and his breakfast, Dumbledore turned his attention back to his own meal. Finding it lacking, he summoned a House Elf. "Get me a new cup of tea please. With the... special ingredient added if you please." The elf nodded and popped away, right before a liter tall glass tankard appeared. Taking a sip, Dumbledore let out a long, satisfied sigh as the alcohol from his Long Island Iced Tea filtered through his bloodstream. Normally he didn't need this kind of 'support' until _after_ Halloween.

 _History of Magic_

 _(Disclaimer:_ _Sorry for this, but I felt it was needed. Given that JKR only ever went into detail on the format of History of Magic exactly ONCE, and the same can be said for at least some of the following classes, I have been forced to take... creative license. In short, every single bit of the following is entirely made up and should not be considered part of HP or DBZ canon like I try to make other aspects and 'historical references' in this story. Just in case anyone had questions about the 'historical figures' that I'll be referencing, as well as 'spells' and 'theories' and other stuff below. Also, I am of the opinion that Professor Cuthbert Binns should be portrayed by none other than the monotone-infamous Ben Stein._ )

Harry followed the instructions that he'd been given and while it wasn't as good as a map might have been, he did manage to locate the correct classroom before class actually began. He double-checked the time and his schedule and nodded, satisfied that he was in the right place on time.

He was actually somewhat looking forward to this class, though not as much as one or two others. He'd always been a fan of history, in particular the stories that went along with the facts that most people learned by rote. His and Gohan's tutor in history had been a friendly and open man who had a habit of spouting off stories at the drop of a pencil. Sometimes those stories got the whole household listening. He always managed to make history come alive for them.

Harry hoped that this History of Magic Professor was as good.

The Professor was a ghost.

Harry stopped just inside the doorway and couldn't help staring. He could, literally, see right through the teacher. It didn't help much that one or two of the students that he knew had older siblings had actually brought _pillows_ rather than their books!

Openly frowning, Harry intentionally made his way to the front of the room and sat directly in front of where the podium stood, where he suspected the Professor would be lecturing from. He looked like a lecturer, given all the different types of teachers he'd had over the years, he recognized the various 'types' there were. But then again, the History teacher he'd just been thinking about had also been a 'Lecturer', so all hope was not yet lost. He just needed to think of some way to turn it around...

Ah, of course! The first thing every single one of his teachers had said to him when they first began. If you don't understand anything, or want more information; _ask questions_!

"Urhrmr!" the ghost made a noise somewhere between a cough and a gag before speaking in a complete monotone, "I see that we're all here. Please raise your hand when I call your name for attendance." He then floated over to the podium and began reading off of the parchment placed there. Presumably by one of the other staff.

He then proceeded to list the names and only briefly glanced up to see if there was in fact a raised hand, or not. When he came across one name that did not produce a raised hand...

"Potter, Harry," the ghost read out the next name on the list. He glanced up, there were no raised hands. He repeated in a complete monotone, "Potter?" waited a beat, "Potter?" another beat, "Potter?" same beat, "Potter?"

The student in the front row let out a heavy sigh and stood up. "Professor," Harry said, "I'm sorry you were not informed, but my surname is no longer 'Potter'. I am Son Harry, adopted child of Son Goku and his wife Son Chichi. My surname is now 'Son', not 'Potter'. I will not respond to the name 'Potter' at all anymore." He then sat down in a huff.

The Professor looked down and they all watched as an enchanted quill lifted itself off the podium, dipped itself in ink, and then crossed out the name Potter and wrote out Son next to it. The name was then marked as present for the day, and the ghost moved on to the next name.

After roll call, the ghost then instructed them to open their books to a specific page and began lecturing them. "Turn to page 12 of your book. In 3000 BC, early wizards, then known as druids, began construction of the great stone circle known today as Stone Henge. It was completed in a few days time, but the enchantments protecting it from discovery wore off 800 years later. In 2700 BC, Imhotep of Egypt was appointed chief sorcerer to the Pharoh. He was killed shortly into his term and is believed to have been cursed by the Pharoh to everlasting torment. In 2500 BC, Uric the Oddball was the first wizard to make contact with the goblin race and his example set the precedent for all following interactions with their race. In 2000 BC, Emeric the Evil was the Dark Lord that ripped the horns from almost all unicorns in the known world, thereby domesticating them and beginning the breed of common horses that have existed ever since. In 1600 BC, the precursor to the ICW, the International Confederation of Wizards, was established in the form of the Pantheons of the various countries that had formulated throughout the world. In 1200 BC, the first Goblin Rebellion began, it would last the next 800 years with no real resolution. In 400 BC, the wand was created and began to see popular use among wizards. In the year 69 AD, the Dark Lord Flatulence the Unbearable unleashed his ultimate spell that resulted in his own death."

Harry couldn't take it anymore. Half the class had already dropped their heads to the top of their desks just from listening to the man's monotonous voice for only two minutes! If this went on, and there was no sign that he was going to change the format, only switch to a different list or time line, he believed there would be no more than a small handful of students still awake, let alone listening or paying attention to the facts he was _reading straight from the book_!

Standing to his feet, Harry raised his hand and even coughed, loudly, to get the ghost's attention.

Aware of the disturbance, Professor Binns finished reading off the fact he'd been in the middle of before looking up, unable to ignore anything that disrupted his routine in the slightest. "Yes, Mister—er—?," he trailed off, annoyance clear and present on his ancient face.

"Son. Harry Son, sir," he dutifully replied. "I'm wondering if you could please tell us who the first known magic user was?"

Professor Binns blinked. Dean Thomas, who had been sitting with his mouth hanging open, gazing out of the window, jerked out of his trance; Lavender Brown's head came up off her arms and Neville Longbottom's elbow slipped off his desk. Needless to say, everybody was wide awake all of a sudden.

"If you might allow me to complete my overview of the history we will be covering for the year, Mister Song, you may discover such information for yourself," the ghost stated, even his annoyance sounding flat and dull. "In 987 AD, the 65th Goblin Rebellion began and..." he didn't get any farther as Harry's hand was still in the air.

"Professor, why does the book say the first magic user was a man named Marduk? Isn't he identified as one of the mythological deities of the Babylonian pantheon of gods?" Harry asked.

"It is pronounced _Mardyúk_ , and the wizard in question later inspired said mythology, among others," Professor Binns corrected gruffly.

"How?" the young student said the magic word.

Professor Binns stared at the dark haired, green eyed boy sitting right in front of him and blinked slowly. His eyelids lowered minutely bit by bit, and then raised themselves open just as haltingly. The primary difference that was immediately noticed by everyone in the class. Professor Binns eyes burned with life, rather odd to see in a ghost, and he was smiling. No—smirking, the same way that Harry was seen smirking when challenged by something.

"Urhrmr!" the ghost coughed/gagged again. "As I was saying," he paused and shot a look right at Harry, "Mister Son, Mardyúk is acknowledged as the first _wizard_ because he is in fact recorded as having used magic intentionally rather than as a form of wish fulfillment or special skill, which is how magic had been used up to that point. Others learned from him and soon the system of Master and Apprentice was started. So your statement regarding what the book says was somewhat false, Mister Son, as while Mardyúk is not the first _magic user_ , he is the first wizard."

"Thank you for the clarification, Professor," Harry replied with a grin.

"Are there any questions?" Binns asked, a note of foreboding worming its way into his tone.

The room was silent, everyone staring in shock. Shrugging, Harry raised his hand and asked another question. For the first time in his career, which was working its way into it's second century, Professor Cuthbert Binns, _finally_ , had a student that listened to him and _wanted to learn_!

To coin a phrase that he'd heard tossed about for the past few years; screw the lesson plan!

 _Charms_

Harry walked into the Charms classroom with little to no expectations whatsoever. His only expectation was that he would finally learn real spells! Beyond that, he'd carefully kept himself a blank slate, waiting for the teacher to mold him into whatever he was to become.

Everyone else, however, seemed to have done the complete opposite. They were all talking about spells their parents had shown them and that they had already mastered, all before officially becoming Hogwarts students of course. There was an air of excitement in the classroom as they all took their seats on either side of the room. In the middle was an open space with the podium against the 'far wall', which was actually a window looking out over the Forbidden Forest. Opposite the window was a fireplace that was merrily crackling away with bright yellow-orange flames.

Once everyone was seated, the Charms Teacher, Professor Filius Flitwick, walked in and climbed the stairs to his podium. Despite his short stature, Harry already knew not to underestimate him. After all, he and Gohan were hardly any taller, and then there was Krillin and Chiaotzu, who were powerful warriors in their own rights, despite being small.

As was common, Professor Flitwick began by taking attendance. When he got to the 'P's, he came to one name and squeaked, nearly falling from his precarious perch and bringing it all down on top of him. Thankfully he managed to regain control before anything like that happened. Still, Harry could easily guess as to what caused the slip up in the first place. He raised his hand and interrupted the Professor before he could actually call the name he'd just read. "Professor Flitwick, sir?"

"Oh, uh, um, yes..." he stammered slightly, looking at Harry over his spectacles.

"My name is Son, Harry Son, as I'm sure you recall from the Sorting Ceremony the other day?" he reminded him, eyebrows raised.

"Oh, ah, yes, you're right, terribly sorry about that Mister Pot—er, Mister Son. Still, very nice to have you back with us and all!" he squeaked and jumped again, though this time without almost falling.

Harry just grinned and did his best not to give any outward sign of how tired he was getting from all the baseless praise and why people just would not accept the fact that he wasn't 'Harry _Potter_ ' anymore, but Harry _Son_!

After roll call, Professor Flitwick began teaching them with a standard lecture. At least that's what Harry thought until he really got into it.

"Now class, to begin with allow me to explain some of the things we'll be accomplishing this year. Oh, I'm sure you've heard all sorts of stories, about that many amazing things you get to do. That is the practical. This class, and make no mistake it is indeed a _class_ , is made up of equal parts practical, and theory. Before we tackle the practical, we must first conquer the theory, as I'm sure will be much the same with most of your other classes.

"We will always practice and discuss, at length, the numerous aspects to learning each spell that I shall be teaching you in this class. Once the basic theory of the spell is understood by all, we will then move on to the steps of each component of the spell; the wand movements, the words and the enunciation of the actual spell, as well as the mental quotient. We will then spend our double block on Thursdays actually practicing the spell, the practical in other words. Homework will be assigned at the beginning of the week and due at the end of class on Thursday. Any questions so far?"

Harry immediately raised his hand, and this time he was satisfied to note he wasn't the only one this time. He was equally pleased to see that, despite holding in a squeak and his eyes shining upon seeing his hand raised, Professor Flitwick did not in fact call on him, instead nodding to Hermione, who had her hand in the air just a bit faster than Harry did and was practically vibrating in her seat already from stretching it as high as she could.

"Yes, Miss Granger?" the Professor called.

"Professor," she began quickly composing herself, "Please forgive me if this is to be covered in a later lesson, but I've already read through all my books and having found no suitable answer, I feel the need to seek those answers with the other resources made available to the students, namely our teachers. And I certainly don't mean to..."

"Your question, Miss Granger?" Professor Flitwick interrupted with a practiced patience. All his Ravenclaws were much the same. This one was no different, and he was glad to have gotten her.

"What can you tell us about _ki_ and how it affects magic? Or are they both in fact the same? And will we be discussing, or practicing, applications of using either in... alternative methods?"

There is a first time for everything, they say. Flitwick just wished that he could have held off this particular 'first time' for a bit longer. After all, while it did happen on rare occasion, this was the first time that a _First Year Student_ had utterly flummoxed the Charms Professor in his own classroom!

"I'm sorry... key?" he repeated.

"Life energy, Professor," Harry casually answered, and then as simple as Flitwick would conjure a colorful spark (or other magical illusion) the boy held out his hands and created a small orb of yellow-golden energy. "I promised Hermione I would show her how to do it, but we've been really busy this first week, I haven't had time to find a place to train yet." He blushed horribly, thinking of that _perfect_ training room, but wanting to hang onto the secret for just a bit longer. At least until Gohan showed up, because it was absolutely amazing and he was using it nightly now.

"Also," Harry added once he'd forced his blush down, "I can say with certainty from experience, Hermione, that ki and magic are most definitely _not_ the same thing. Ki is more... natural, flowing with the blood in your body and the breath in your lungs. Magic is... not natural. Not quite artificial, but it is most definitely not natural. It acts more like the wind or the flames of a fire. Except that actual wind is infinitely easier to control, and fire is at least predictable. The same cannot be said of magic."

"And how would you know that?" she asked, huffed up from being told this by a student rather than the teacher she had asked the question of.

Harry shrugged and tapped into his magic. Flitwick gasped, his eyes going wide as he witnessed a miracle straight out of a fairy tale story.

Focusing his will, as he had learned how to do on a spaceship on its way to an alien planet, amidst a gravity field so intense that the ship should have been a planet half the size of Saturn, he demonstrated a small trick that he had learned while training his magic during the trip to Namek. In the center of the room, level with Harry's line of sight, a vivid lime green sphere formed and grew to match the size of the yellow-golden orb he still held outstretched between his hands.

Unlike the orb, which was osculating and pulsing in time with some unseen beat, the sphere was exactly that, a perfect sphere that had no flaws and unleashed a steady glow. This was something that Harry had dubbed a 'Mana Ball', though it was not a true spell and had no real name. It was just focused energy, much like his ki ball. Nothing but energy that could be channeled and directed, and wasn't even as complex as some of his more advanced ki attacks, let alone the Kamehameha!

"M-m-mister... Mister Son," Flitwick squeaked again, but in a very different way than before, "Th-that's enough. Thank you very much for your demonstration. I'll take it from here."

Harry nodded and casually reabsorbed the energy from the ball between his hands. The one in the middle of the room however, was not so easy. Squinting at it, he drew in a slightly deeper breath and held it as the sphere began to shrink. The faster it shrank, the brighter the glow became, until some started to think they could see particles streaming out from it in every direction. Once it was the size of a marble, it 'exploded' in a shower of radiant sparks that all trailed down to the ground, vanishing long before they'd even made it halfway there.

"Th-thank you again, Mister Son," Flitwick gulped, taking out a handkerchief, he quickly wiped his brow and was not surprised to see it come back rather damp.

"In answer to your question, Miss Granger, Mister Son is quite correct. Magic is a force unto itself, controllable only through strong will, determination, and of course magic. Let's make that perfectly clear. Magic can affect magic. We will be discussing the particulars and the theories and such behind it later on in the year, but you can consider this to be rule one when it comes to casting spells. Energy is energy, whether created from magic, nature," he shot Harry a strange look, "or one's own life essence."

"An example," he stepped down from his podium and began to pace the room. "Say there is a lightning storm going on around you. Say again, for arguments sake, that you happen to be a particular wizard who is easily capable of casting a variety of lightning spells. You could cast your strongest lightning spell at a bolt of lightning headed your way and, Heaven willing, probably fight it off, meeting like with like so that it would then become a battle of which had the greater endurance. By the same token, someone like Mister Son here, who is able to somehow produce lightning energy from their very biology. On that front, you might find the ground a little more even, perhaps.

"There is also the other side of it, as you will rarely ever meet someone that is particularly stupid enough to train themselves into being a Lightning Mage if they have other options available to them. Few wizards about to be struck by lightning will bother firing back a second lightning bolt at the first. No, they'll more than likely either shield themselves, or do the smart thing and _redirect_ the lightning by shooting a grounding or water element spell at it to make sure they don't get hit by it in the first place. The spell _Aguamentia_ , which we'll be covering some time in the distant future, for example conjures a stream of water from the tip of your wand to whatever target you designate. It's also _pure water_ , I should tell you."

Harry's and Hermione's eyes both lit up and they shared a look of surprise. Hermione, ever the motor mouth, couldn't help saying aloud, "Pure water is one of the most effective insulators in nature. Lightning and electricity would not be able to affect it at all. The energy would be blocked easily."

"Correct, Miss Granger. Five Points for Ravenclaw for your astute observations."

"In essence," Flitwick concluded, "For less than a tenth of the energy you would use shooting lightning at lightning, you could shoot water at it and just as easily defeat it. That is the second thing to remember in this class, just as important to remember that energy is energy, different _types_ of energy react differently to each other. That is just a small portion of what we will spend our time learning. Now then, for being such attentive students, how about a little treat? Who wants to learn their very first spell? A little something I like to call _Micandeo_!"

 _(AN: Not a real word, it's a slurring of internet-translated Latin words_ Mico _and_ Candeo _, both are translated-synonyms from the English word "sparkle". This is my made-up guess at the spell First Years use to "shoot sparks at each other" from Ron and Harry's conversation regarding the latter's duel with Malfoy.)_

 _Arithmancy_

Now this, Harry thought as he walked into a straight-forward classroom with neatly aligned desk chairs set before a blackboard with the teacher's desk off to the side, is a subject I'm actually looking forward to. I was always rather decent at the maths.

Professor Septima Vector was already at her desk and watching as students walked in, marking something with her quill on the parchment before her as each took their seat. It wasn't until he'd taken his seat near the front of the class in the second row from said desk that he even noticed that every other student in the room so far, as well as those still filing in, were all at least two years older than he was. He shrugged it off, not all that concerned about the age difference, math was math, regardless of the age you learned it at.

Setting his supplies up at his desk, he took the opportunity to look around the room. Most of the professors, he'd noticed, liked to decorate their classrooms to reflect their subject and personal teaching style. From what he was seeing, he felt he would definitely like this class.

On all four walls, even the small spaces above and below the blackboard, there were sheets of parchment that in any other school would be called posters. Here, Harry felt it was better to call them _Proofs_ , seeing as they all contained a variety of differing Arithmantic equations. Looking them over, he felt like he could mostly understand one or two of them, but the rest were worse than the most complex Calculus equations he'd ever faced and then some!

Once all the seats had been filled, Professor Vector nodded and stood to her feet, snapping her wand in the direction of the door. It shut with a slam a moment later, startling most of the class.

"I've already taken your attendance and your seating arrangement," she stated in a cold, hard tone.

Standing before the blackboard, she tapped it once and the chalk immediately began to write out information there, even as she spoke. Harry immediately started writing, but made sure to listen as well, as not everything of importance was being written on the board.

"I am Professor Vector, your Arithmancy teacher. Arithmancy is a branch of magic that is concerned with the magical properties of numbers. My job is to teach you those properties and how it relates to the world at large. Your job is to memorize everything I tell you and then prove you understand it by explaining it back to me, which you will do with your essay homework that will be assigned daily."

Those in the classroom not wearing a blue stripe on their robe hems, Harry being the lone exception, all groaned and some even pulled out extra parchment and vials of ink. As for Harry, after noting the expressions of frustration from most of his classmates, he just shrugged and resumed writing out everything the chalk was putting on the board as it was written.

"Those of you that are prepared for this class, you would have known this was coming all summer," she said with a smirk on her face. "Please turn in your first essays of the semester. You've had all summer, since you actually requested my class as your elective in fact, to complete them. Hand them to the person in front of you, those at the front of the row, I will be collecting them once they are all up front. Yes, Mister Son?"

Harry had raised his hand, and felt he probably should have asked this before he'd basically strong-armed the Headmaster into giving him the extra classes, but he was hoping to have a chance to do some make-up work here. "Professor Vector, if I may ask, what is the subject of the summer essay?"

One eyebrow raised, the Arithmancer shot the small First Year a calculating look before answering, "The subject of the essay was to be the Arithmantic equation at the front of your book, _Numerology and Grammatica_. Using, and citing examples from the book itself, as well as any other sources available to you, explain and give real world examples why the equation is true."

Harry nodded and handed the parchments that were being shoved at his back forward to the person in front of him with one hand, while the other was opening the book that he'd gotten via owl delivery just that morning. Finding the equation was no difficulty at all, it was on the very first page. Frowning, he tapped his chi and boosted his thought process a bit, although it required about as much effort from him as the average person put towards watching the television, it allowed his mind to focus, absorb, and analyze information at more than ten times the rate it normally did.

As everyone watched, and before the Professor could collect the second row's papers, Harry began to flip through the book at a steadily increasing rate, first just a page a second, but soon he was leaving through the book, his eyes flashing up and down, at a rate that nobody could believe. Within a few seconds, he reached the end of the book and sat there for just another couple of seconds. Finally, he nodded, seemingly to himself and then raised his hand again, "Professor?"

"Yes Mister Son?" she replied, somewhat amused.

"Would you like to receive my essay orally, or is there a set length for it on parchment?"

"It's to be no less than one foot in length, Mister Son," she answered, collecting the next row's stack of parchments. "And I can see already that most of you have forgotten that tidbit. If you want credit for the assignment, Mister Son, I strongly suggest that you find some way of..." she trailed off as she saw him roll out an exact foot of parchment, cut it (with a small trace of smoke) with his fingertip and then began writing, dipping his quill into the ink pot every third second, which on the piece of parchment translated to every fifth line. His hands was literally a blur to all their eyes.

"Mister Son... what... how are you doing that?" she asked, staring. She wasn't the only one.

"Same way I can fly and tear open an iron roof of a train car," he shrugged, distracted as he was composing this entire thing on the fly. And he just knew there would be tons of grammatical and spelling errors since he wasn't being given an opportunity to proofread it. A sudden thought occurred to him, "Oh, and I'm not being facetious. I'm sure Professor Quirrell has already mentioned it, and I've made no secret of my skills learned from my Sensei and father." He'd finished the first side, but still wasn't quite done, so, shrugging, he exerted just enough magic to dry the ink so it wouldn't smear, and then flipped the parchment over and quickly resumed writing his essay. Within three minutes of starting, he completed it and after spending a second (literally it only took him one second to read through the ten thousand word essay) reading it over, he nodded in satisfaction and handed it to the person in front of him, who took it only after a bit of cajoling.

Frowning, Professor Vector accepted the last minute entry and began to read it even as she stood before them all. Thirty seconds later, she was only a fifth of the way down the page, but already she could tell that she would be giving this paper an O. Two minutes later, she'd finally reached the middle of the first page, and reevaluated her assessment.

"Mister Son, stay after class. I'll clear it with your other teachers for the day," she said distractedly. "Everyone, open your books to page seven and start memorizing the chart you see there. If you have any questions, raise your hand and wait to be called upon. I'll be back in a few minutes and then there will be an oral pop quiz to see how well you all memorized it." She then put all the other papers on her desk and then left the room, the door slamming shut behind her.

That afternoon, Harry was given a special placement test, or at least that's what he was told, and afterward, he was put into one of Professor Vector's other classes. The following week, he was in the same classroom with a bunch of fifteen-year-olds, an hour later than the week before, but nothing that he had any problems with. First lesson in the new class was actually a review of all the work they had done thus far. She spent most of the class answering his questions that he had, but she never once had to repeat herself.

Professor Vector, Master Arithmancer, almost cackled in glee every time Harry walked into her class. He was the sort that embodied the phrase 'Once In A Blue Moon', a boy that was a mathematical genius, and somehow had the capacity to not only keep up, but challenge those that were his superiors in both experience and natural talent! That was why she put him in her OWL Prep class, because the first two years would have been wasted on him, repeating the basics over and over again until it finally sunk in. He didn't need that. In order to challenge him at all, she needed to start him off behind the rest because she had no doubt in her mind that very soon he would outshine them all!

 _Herbology_

Walking outside toward the Greenhouses, Harry wondered what this class would be like. He didn't exactly have a lot of experience with plants, let alone magical plants. Well, not unless you counted Korin's senzu bean plant of course.

He entered Greenhouse 1 along with the other First Years, these from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, so as to make time for his Arithmancy class earlier in the day. Professor Pomona Sprout was already there and handing out the equipment needed for the lesson of the day.

"I've already done a headcount," she was saying, "and I know who was late, who is absent, and who is here. Mister Son, please no flashy antics in my class." Harry had the good manners enough to blush and duck his head, but otherwise did not respond. "I do hope you all remembered to bring your dragon-hide gloves, as the only homework I will assign will be at the end of class and it will always be about the plants we discussed that day, or will be discussing on the day the homework is due. Pay attention and you'll be fine. Don't pay attention and..."

"Ahhh!" a girl screamed. Her hair was being tugged and yanked at by one of the plants she'd gotten too close to.

"And thank you Miss Abbott for making my point abundantly clear," the Professor smiled and helped the girl get free.

"Now then, first order of business, get your hands dirty," the rosy cheeked teacher laughed bubbly. "I don't mean that literally of course. This is _Dragon Dung_ fertilizer we're dealing with here! I never want to see anyone without their dragon-hide gloves on! I've lost more than a few students to nasty infections and burns. Not to worry, not to worry, our School Nurse fixes them right up."

What followed was a lesson straight from Korin's book, sticking their hands in the dirt and working with the plants, adjusting their position, pulling out weeds and parasites. It's just where Korin usually had him doing it bare handed and never with any tools, Professor Sprout had them use wands and specialized spells for the more... delicate work she called it. For everything else that wasn't some special and unique need of that particular plant, but just a standard need for any plant, they did it all by hand the same as any gardener. Harry decided that he liked this class, even though he didn't find it particularly useful as his aptitude fell towards other pursuits. Professor Sprout, on the other hand was equally pleased and disappointed that Harry Son hadn't somehow impressed or amazed her.

Oh well, there was always next time...

 _Astronomy_

Harry joined the rest of the First Years at the top of the tower. Most were yawning and rubbing their eyes, obviously trying to stay awake. Unlike all the rest of his classes, this was one where he was matched with students from all four Houses. As a matter of fact, the entire First Year class was in attendance, as Astronomy could, according to Wizard Logic, only be held at midnight and NEWT classes were held on the weekends, leaving the other nights for the other years.

As for Harry himself, he'd already had a late evening workout in that hidden gym, and he was planning to go back after class before getting a couple hours sleep. He was sure that everyone else would just be going straight back to bed instead.

The Astronomy Tower was one of the highest towers of the castle, and as such being on the flattened roof of it, the students were at a higher elevation than at any other point in the castle, save one or two. In fact they were even with the nearest mountain peak, as far as elevation went. These facts made it seem that the sky was much closer than normal.

Harry also suspected there were strong enchantments in place on this area as he felt hardly any of the wind that he should have felt from this height, and it was warmer than the torches should have allowed for. And if that weren't suspicious enough, Harry could not see a single cloud in the sky, in _any_ direction!

Taking a closer look, he blinked a did a double-take. He was wrong. There were clouds. But just like the ceiling of the Great Hall made you see the sky instead of the rafters and inside of the roof, one or more enchantments made any and all obstructions to the night sky nearly invisible. Instead of blots of blackness, gray or white, all Harry could see with his naked eye was a slight distortion of air, like heat steam coming off a desert road. Impressive.

"All right class, enough gawking and lazing about," Professor Aurora Sinistra snapped at the half dozing group of First Year students. "We have a bit of work to do and a somewhat limited time to do it in. The purpose of this class is to teach you the position of the heavenly bodies and how they affect your magic. That latter part shall be discussed at length during your NEWT classes if you so desire and get no less than an E on your Astronomy OWL. Between then and now, I will have you work, every class, and as homework between classes, on personal maps and star charts. The best way to learn is by doing. Now then, please respond clearly and loud enough for me to hear you when I call your name. Abbott, Hannah?"

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes, thinking, ' _Here we go again!_ '.

When she got to the P's however, despite the fact that he was listening for it this time, he never heard the name "Potter" come from her. It was proved soon enough when she called out the name, "Son, Harry?"

He was so surprised that at first he didn't respond, but a nudge from Hermione next to him had him standing at attention and exclaiming, a bit louder than he'd intended, "H-here!" He quickly sat back down before anyone could say anything on the matter.

After roll call, the Professor began the lesson for the evening. "Now, if you'll direct your telescopes to the Northern horizon, the first star that should become obvious is _Polaris_ , the North Star. If nothing else, it will help you locate North and therefore the other directions. It is the brightest star in the heavens and has been for several thousand years now and shall be for long after we're all dead and buried. It is also where you can begin your personal star charts, as if you cannot find Polaris by the end of this class, you may as well throw yourselves off this tower here and now, because I will do it soon after if you do not!"

Harry grinned, not bothering with the telescope and still easily able to identify the star in question. It was fairly noticeable to begin with and using it as a frame of reference, he quickly identified more and more of the well-known constellations in the Northern sky.

"Also, it should be obvious, but I'll go ahead and say it anyway, there are more to the heavenly bodies than just stars. There is the moon and the sun of course, but also planets. Now, direct your telescopes upwards, but a little to the South by a few degrees. Almost straight up from that position, most of you should see a small, pale pink point of light. Five points to the student that can identify exactly what that is you are looking at!"

A few immediately started calling out random names, some repeating the word 'Polaris' and they immediately lost a point a piece. Harry just leaned back against the part of the tower he was using as his seat and soon noticed what the Professor was referring to. He recognized it almost immediately, saying aloud, "Jupiter."

As luck would have it, most of the attention-grabbers had stopped talking and the rest that had no clue or were too shy were staying quiet, waiting for someone else to speak. As such, everyone on the tower heard Harry clearly.

"Excellent, Mister Son. Ten points... er," she paused suddenly as she recalled that he couldn't receive or have taken points away. "Well, ten points towards your reward, whatever that may end up being," she finished rather lamely. "Now, off to the East, which is that way," she pointed when everyone started looking in every other direction, "In the constellation of Leo, you'll see a yellow dot of light that likes to flicker a bit. That is Venus. On the other side of Leo, almost on the Eastern horizon, you'll be able to see a much smaller, red dot that also flickers. That is Mars. The other planets are out of sight for a bit longer, but now that you all know what to look for, I'll trust you to try and identify the other two still visible in the night sky."

"Now, before I let you get to your stargazing, does anyone have any questions? Relevant questions!"

A few raised their hands, but what was surprising to the Astronomy Professor was that Harry Son was among them. Despite his 'lucky guess' on the largest planet in the sky, he did not strike her as a serious astronomer. Especially since he had yet to even look into his telescope!

Therefore, to satisfy her curiosity and determine what kind of student he truly was, she called on him first, "Yes Mister Son? Your question?"

"Professor, will we be discussing other planets that are not visible from Earth? Also, do you know if it's possible to see stars from other Galactic Quadrants?" he asked, totally serious.

She blinked and had to do a double-take at the young man. She'd heard the rumors amongst the others, but she honestly hadn't believed them. Although, when that old ghost Binns showed up to actually compliment and _gossip_ about his new "favorite student", she had almost been sold. Now that she had him in front of her, she knew she couldn't deny it any further. There was definitely something... unique about Harry Son – ne – Harry Potter.

"I'm sorry, Mister Son, did you ask if there are other planets? And... galactic quadrupeds?"

He shook his head, "No ma'am. I asked if we would be discussing alien planets not in our Solar System, and therefore not visible to the naked eye? And it's Galactic _Quadrants_. You know, the 256 galaxies of the North Quadrant, which we're in, and then the 256 of the South Quadrant, the 256 of the East Quadrant, and the 256 of the West Quadrant. Of course that only counts for our 'North' Quadrant of the Universe, with the other three Universal Quadrants divided into their own Galactic Quadrants. I doubt we could see into other Universal Quadrants, but it would be kinda cool if we could see galaxies in the East or the West Quadrants!" Harry smiled, thinking of the possibilities.

"Mister Son," Professor Sinistra began slowly and carefully, "There is no such thing as... alien planets. All the other planets are devoid of life. Earth is the only planet on it with magical beings on it, of that I can assure you."

Harry stared at her. And then he laughed.

Startled, everyone jumped at the sound and could only watch as he descended into what is commonly known as a giggle fit. He was laughing so hard that he actually fell over and started rolling back and forth on the floor of the tower. Professor Sinistra failed to see what was so funny.

"Mister Son!" she snapped, her tone breaking him out of his laughter.

Stifling the last of his chuckles as best he could, Harry struggled to his feet, wiping the tears of mirth from his eyes as he answered her. "Sorry, (heh) Professor, but I (haha!) I couldn't help it. (heehee) You see," he cleared his throat, no longer laughing but still smiling widely, "I've actually been to one of those non-existent alien planets. And as for alien life, well, my adopted father is actually a Saiyan, an alien from a planet once known as _Vegeta_. And my sensei, Piccolo, he's a Namek from the planet that was once known as _Namek_. Unfortunately, both planets were destroyed by an evil alien warlord that went by the name Frieza. Frieza's dead now, by the way."

Pursing her lips, the Professor walked up to Harry and glared down at him. "Those points I mentioned earlier, Mister Son? Considered them revoked for telling bold faced lies to your teacher!"

Harry lost his grin. Frowning up at her, he uncrossed his arms and held them out to either side, hands limp and loose. "I'm sorry, Professor, but did you just accuse me of lying?" his voice no longer held a trace of mirth in it.

"There are no alien planets!" she insisted, glaring hostilely down at him. "Humans are the only beings to possess magic in the whole of the universe!"

At that bold proclamation, Harry recoiled. He could see it in her eyes. She genuinely believed that with every fiber of her being. Blinking, he took a step back. When he spoke, there was still no happiness there, but none of the hostility that had been just beneath the surface either. If anything, there was a trace of pity in his tone.

"I'm sorry Professor, but you are wrong. And if you simply refuse to accept it, then there is nothing I can do to prove it to you. The fact of the matter is that since I was five years old, the Earth has been invaded by hostile aliens, some even from other dimensions, at least four times that I'm aware of. Perhaps more. But aliens do exist..." he stopped talking when she slapped him.

"...as do alien planets," he finished as though nothing had happened. And judging by the lack of bruising on his face, it may as well not have. Professor Sinistra, on the other hand, was nursing a bruised and aching hand. She moved to slap him again, but this time he easily dodged out of the way, saying even as he did so, "It's hardly the time for speed training, Professor. And I wouldn't want you to break your hand. I know from experience how much that can hurt."

"GO SEE THE HEADMASTER! NOW!" she screamed at him.

Shrugging, Harry jumped over to the edge of the tower, sensed out where Professor Dumbledore was in the castle, and then he flew down off the tower and around and over to the window near the top of the third tallest tower. He of course totally ignored all the screaming from everyone after he'd jumped off the tower. She said she wanted him to get the Headmaster, so he was going to get the Headmaster.

Knocking on the window, he patiently waited for his knocking to awaken the old wizard and for said old wizard to dress and come to the window. He ignored the man's gawking at his casual state of 'standing' in mid-air outside the window, and instead filled him in by say, "Professor Sinistra asked that I come see you, Headmaster. I think there's something you need to discuss with her."

"Hm?" Dumbledore shook himself out of the stupor of seeing a boy flying without the aid of broom or enchantments and treating it as casually as if he were standing out in the hallway. "Professor Sinistra? Hm, what is it you believe I need to discuss with her, Mister Son?"

Harry shrugged and replied, "For reasons I wouldn't care to guess at, she refuses to believe that there are alien planets and life on more than just some of those alien planets. Oh, and she called me a liar and slapped my face in front of her First Year Astronomy class. Of course I didn't really do much to defuse the situation as I did tell her she was wrong..."

"Ah, Mister Son," Dumbledore tried to interrupt. He was cursing his actions and not taking Harry in much sooner. It was clear that the Son family, despite teaching Harry some amazing skills, had indulged his fantasy life to the point that he was becoming delusional. He had to do what he could to repair the damage before things became truly untenable.

"Mister Son!" he finally succeeded in gaining the boy's attention. "There is no such thing as alien worlds. No proof has ever been found or exists that life, magical or otherwise, has ever manifested anywhere other than here on this one planet."

Harry gave him the oddest look just then. And for just a brief moment, Dumbledore knew what it felt like to be looked at like he was a child telling a tale of fantasy and delusion. The moment quickly passed as he reminded himself that Harry was the delusional one.

"Professor," the boy said, looking him straight in the eye, thereby allowing Dumbledore's Legilimency to come to the fore with the silent permission, "I've been to one of those alien worlds. Two of them in fact. My father and sensei both are aliens that were born on different planets. And I am not a liar."

Dumbledore stopped breathing.

After all, that's what one does when their view of the entire universe is shattered with less than four sentences. That, and the memories that were practically being shoved at him from the boy's mind. There was a way to tell the difference between 'memory' and 'fantasy' with Legilimency. The difference was, in fact, so obvious that it was impossible to confuse one with the other to a trained Legilimens, which Dumbledore just so happened to be. Harry's memories of fighting on Namek and visiting New Namek were extraordinarily clear as was the knowledge of Son Goku and Piccolo being aliens from other planets. The ones involving the other Saiyans, Frieza, King Cold, and a few others were even more clear and just as obviously _not_ fantasies.

He passed out because he forgot to start breathing again. He hoped he would remember to speak to Professor Sinistra and Harry both when he finally came to.

 _Transfiguration_

Harry walked slowly to his next class. He was probably going to be late, but after what had happened the night before... well, let's just say that he was no longer having as much fun as he had been the day before.

Not that it was all fun and games, but Harry'd had his eyes opened during Astronomy class. So while he subscribed to the same belief of his father in that everyone had good in them and deserved every chance you could give them, it had essentially been shoved under his nose that _some_ people, a fair number of wizards in this case, were ignorant of the universe around them. And they not only proudly proclaimed this ignorance, but they did their damnedest to promote and defend that ignorance so everyone they ever came in contact with was just as ignorant as they were.

He was so depressed over this fact, that by the time he finally did get to Professor Minerva McGonagall's Transfiguration classroom, all the other students were sat and had all their materials out. Oddly, he noticed as he entered the room, the teacher was not present. At least not visually, since he could distinctively sense her presence. There was, however, a tabby cat perched on the teacher's desk, watching the students like they were a litter of mice.

Frowning, as he stepped closer Harry took a second look at the cat.

It was just like Ron's rat! The cat was a wizard! No... a witch! What's more, he could sense Professor McGonagall's energy coming from it, but it was mixed and muted by the energy of the cat's own energy signature. What was going on here? Was this McGonagall's Familiar? He'd read about such phenomena in books before, not to mention witches and wizards were known for having animal familiars attached to them, though this would be the first time he'd come across it.

Stopping in the middle of the classroom, Harry continued to stare at the cat, trying to figure out what it was. He barely acknowledged Ron Weasley coming in behind him, out of breath. Apparently he'd taken some wrong turns and gotten lost, only just now having gotten directions from an upperclassman not willing to play a prank on him.

"Whew, made it!" Ron exclaimed. Seeing Harry just ahead of him, he came up next to the other boy and whispered to him, "Can you imagine the look on McGonagall's face if we were late?"

All of a sudden, Harry felt an energy spike, a _magical_ energy spike, come from the cat as it jumped from its perch on the Professor's desk. Mid-air, the cat _transformed_ into Professor McGonagall, who didn't so much as lose stride as her heels struck the stone floor on her way to intercepting the two tardy students.

Harry's jaw may as well have been on the ground, while Ron was staring, he couldn't help but comment to the Transfiguration teacher, "That was bloody brilliant!"

She nodded her head briefly before giving a sarcastic reply, "Why thank you for that assessment Mister Weasley. Perhaps it might be more useful if I were to transfigure Mister Son or yourself into a pocket watch. That way one of you might be on time!"

"I, uh, we, got lost?" Ron shrugged out his reply.

"Then perhaps a map? I trust you don't need one to find your seats!" she snapped, turning back around to return to the front of the class.

"Professor?" Harry finally found his voice.

Pausing, she turned back, "Yes, Mister Son?"

"You just... transformed?" He was still trying to make sense of what his senses were telling him. Before, the cat had definitely been a cat, but it also had a small part of McGonagall's energy in it. Now... now that he was looking for it, he could even sense, somewhat, the _cat_ in McGonagall, but it was even more muted and overwhelmed than her energy had been inside the cat making it all but completely undetectable!

"Yes, Mister Son, I did. I would give you the full explanation for it, but before that I require that you _take your seat_!"

McGonagall blinked. Harry had just disappeared before her eyes! Looking about, she saw him sitting attentively as near the front row as he could, all his materials and books out and ready for use. Shaking her head, she just let out a soft sigh and decided to go ahead and get class started.

She quickly marked attendance, and after the roll call, began with her normal speech that she gave to all her First Years on the first day of class. "Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

She then tapped her desk with her wand, transforming it into a large pig of equal mass. A casual wave changed it back. As always, she got a bit of appreciation from her students at the display.

Even as she turned to begin lecturing, Harry Son's hand shot into the air. "Yes, Mister Son?" she called on him, almost dreading what could come from him. She'd heard poor Aurora's rants about his "blatant lies" all this morning in the Teacher's Lounge.

"You transformed," he said, lowering his hand. More as a statement than a question this time.

"Yes, it is called the Animagus transformation, something that is covered more in depth in your Third Year I believe," she answered.

"You were a cat."

She didn't like the emphasis he'd placed on that sentence. Turning to him, she merely replied with a patient, "Yes, I was."

"But you were still you. _You_ were a _cat_ ," he repeated, his eyes wide and unblinking.

"Yes," she nodded, "Your point, Mister Son?"

"I could transform?" he asked, eyes shining.

Tilting her head curiously, she sighed and replied, "Yes, I suppose you could, Mister Son, provided you worked to master the skill. But again, this is a subject that will be covered more in depth at a later date. _Today_ , we will be discussing the basic tenants of the art of Transfiguration."

"I could transform..." Harry said again, softer, more to himself. He raised his hand again, eyes burning with eagerness.

Letting out a suffering sigh, she acknowledged him, "Yes, Mister Son?"

"You can teach me to transform? Will you teach me how to transform?!" he was practically begging.

Shooting him a glare, "Yes! But only if you attain the highest grades in my class, Mister Son! And nothing less than an O in all your other classes! … Except maybe Potions... and Astronomy." Shaking her head, she forced herself back on task. "Now, if we're done with questions, for the moment, let's all go over the basic principles and Gamp's Laws of Transfiguration!"

After that, Harry Son was a model student and in the coming months, he would find himself fighting tooth and nail for every grade and the top spot in Transfiguration. The one that would no doubt give him the most trouble fought just as hard, and arguably harder still, but he would not relinquish the promise Professor McGonagall had unwittingly just given. Whoever got the top spot in Transfiguration, she would personally teach them how to become an Animagus.

Looking back over it, Minerva wondered and hoped that the casual promise hadn't resulted in a magical oath that would actually force her to keep said promise. Although, as she watched Harry Son and Hermione Granger in academic combat over the coming months, she felt she might very well change her mind and teach the winner anyway.

But that was for the future. For now, turning matchsticks into needles!

 _Ancient Runes_

Harry walked into the room and took his seat near the front row. He was in this class with a mix from all four Houses, but the real catch was that as with his Arithmancy class, they were all at least thirteen years old. The room was a standard classroom, blackboard up front, student desks in neat rows in front of said blackboard, and the teacher's desk off to the side. As for decoration, well on that point, where the Arithmancy classroom has 'posters' of Arithmancical equations, this one has various photographs and parchment sheets of numerous runic writings. The photographs of buildings, walls, or other artifacts that had the writing on them, while the sheets were just like the Arithmancy 'posters'.

Once all the students had taken their seats, the teacher, Professor Bathsheba Babbling stood from her desk and moved up to the blackboard. A tap from her wand had the chalk floating and writing.

"My name is Professor Bathsheba Babbling," she introduced herself, "And this is Ancient Runes. The 'Ancient' part is somewhat of a misnomer, however. Runes, quite simply, are letters that have the same meaning as words, and sometimes whole sentences. Runes were, said by some, the first letters ever used. When language was still being invented and tossed around, runes were how we communicated when unable to do so in person.

"As I'm sure you've learned from Professor Flitwick by now, words have power. The right word, with the right meaning behind it can allow one to use magic and do almost anything with it. Runes work the same way. Some common examples include warding, enchanting, and more unusual than most is casting and maintaining spells with them. For example, at St. Mungo's, there is a room that is constantly filled with the magic of a healing spell that negates all illnesses and infections and increases vitality for all that are affected by it. If one were to cast the spell with their wand, the effects would be quite potent, but ultimately temporary, lasting only as long as the wizard's magic could maintain it. Whereas that room... the spell has not stopped once since it was first activated."

Letting that sink in for a bit, the Professor glanced over her shoulder and saw that only two thirds of the board was filled in. Seeing that she had a bit more time, she turned back to the class and continued speaking.

"In this class, we will be covering the three styles of Runes used by wizards today; Futhark, Egyptian, and Latin. Arguably, the English lettering system used today could be said to being the culmination and therefore the only useable variety of Latin Runes. There are, however, subtle differences between what is used today and what was used two thousand years ago when magic use was at it's height and all the spells we still use today were just being invented. As for the Egyptian Runes, I'm afraid that will have to wait for next year."

Harry raised his hand. "Yes Mister Son?" Professor Babbling called on him after a moment to prepare herself.

"Egyptians used hieroglyphics, ma'am. Pictographs, rather than lined symbols. There is no such thing as Egyptian runes," he pointed out.

Professor Babbling stood there and waited for about thirty seconds, slowly taking in the reactions of the rest of the class. More than half of them looked very uncomfortable at the idea of a student talking back to a teacher, while only a handful were frowning and looking back and forth between Harry and the teacher. Those were the ones to watch for then, she decided.

"How many of you agree with Mister Son?" she asked after a lengthy pause. Only two others raised their hands, both the only Gryffindors in the class.

"Fifteen points, Mister Son. It normally takes my students most of the year and partway into next to realize that. What we _will_ be discussing this year is Futhark runes, and as for the Egyptians, well... that's next year." She smiled and turned around and began to lecture. "On the board is the entirety of every version of the Futhark alphabet. Copy it down. You are to present a complete and accurate transcription and translation of each alphabet by end of year. That is you homework, and that is the only homework you will have. Outside of class. In here, we will be discussing..."

Harry smiled as he continued to listen while transcribing the runes onto his parchment. After learning three other languages by the time he was nine, (after all a scholar can be a scholar in any country so long as he knows the language), this would be easy.

 _Defense Against The Dark Arts_

Harry noticed that there was something wrong with the teacher the moment he entered the classroom. He would have mentioned something, except that it took more than ten minutes to get through the roll call with the man stuttering every second and third word. He then turned and picked up a piece of chalk and began writing with it on the blackboard.

While his back was turned, the class had a full view of the man's purple turban.

Harry's scar gave a sharp pulse, but he recognized it for what it was before the pain hit. _Something_ had just tried to read his thoughts. Whats more, it had bypassed his mental protections.

He wasn't a telepath, and he certainly wasn't a Super Saiyan, although Professor McGonagall's promises of teaching him how to transform gave him some hopes in that regard, but unfortunately he did not have a way to strike back at whatever had attacked his mind. Not yet at least.

Ever since the incident with the Sorting Hat, Harry had been thinking. Professor Dumbledore had mentioned Legilimency, and he'd called his mental protections Occlumency. So there was a magical way to read minds. He just needed to figure out how to do it.

Except...

Except that whatever had just attacked him had just gotten past his 'Occlumency', though only for a moment and only enough to see his surface thoughts, no possibility of accessing his memories or much else. Not without more prolonged contact that is. Unless...

Harry thought about it for a bit, ignoring the ramblings of the stuttering fool who couldn't teach him much, even without the stutter. Occlumency was supposed to be a _magical_ skill. But Harry's mental protections, as they were at present, were based almost entirely off of his ki abilities. So, rather than take notes, beyond that which was needed to complete the homework, Harry spent the entirety of the DADA class period clearing his mind and focusing his magic into a mirror of his ki-augmented mental protections. He had it completed before the end of class and looked back up to see the back of the Professor's purple turban.

The mental attack was quick and brutal and seemed to originate from his scar... except that it never penetrated his defenses. Not a bit. Next class, Harry grinned, he started work on his Legilimency.

 _Potions_

Harry walked down the stairs with more than a mild sense of trepidation. If his experiences from the past week were anything to go by, he was no doubt going to have to correct the Professor on at least one thing before the end of class. If it wasn't his name, inevitably it would be something else. The fact that his favorite class thus far was the one that every single student in the castle wholeheartedly agreed was the most boring class of all, well it made him worry about his Potions class, the class that every student that was not a part of Slytherin House said 'wasn't worth it and the teacher always favors the Slytherins and blames everything wrong on whatever other class is in there at the time!'

There were some variations, but across three quarters of the school, and even amongst those few (not counting Draco Malfoy and his posse) that he'd managed to befriend in Slytherin openly agreed with it. Professor Severus Snape was not a well-liked man, at least not by reputation amongst the student population.

Potions lessons took place down in the dungeons of the castle. It was colder down in the dungeons than anywhere else in the castle above. Harry attributed the same frigid atmosphere with the environment he encountered whenever visiting Bulma's or her father's labs at Capsule Corp. Harry hoped it was for the same sanitation reasons that the Briefs had for the low temperatures. Looking around as he found a seat somewhere in the middle, he observed that like most of the other Professors, Professor Snape had elected to decorate his classroom... uniquely. Although he found it plenty creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in specimen jars all over the place, thank you very much.

Professor Snape entered the room from a side door, which in all probability lead to his office. He rushed to the front of the room, somehow succeeding in keeping it from looking like he was rushing, but still allowing for his cloak and robes to billow and flutter. Like a bat's wings.

Once at the front of the room, he threw his cloak around him and just stood there, letting it stay wrapped up, making him look even more like a bat. Or like a person pretending to be a bat. He glared out at the students in his classroom, pausing briefly in the middle of the room, before moving on. After about half a minute of uncomfortable silence, he allowed his cloak to fall more naturally. In his hands he now held a parchment, which he began to read from. Roll call. Again.

As always, there was a brief wait in order to allow the student to respond and confirm that they were in fact present. Until he got to Harry's name. Sort of.

"Ah _yes_ ," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new— _celebrity_."

They all waited for Harry to acknowledge himself. When he didn't, the Professor frowned and half the class turned to look right at him. Harry was just sitting there, patiently looking ahead, waiting for the lesson to actually begin. He showed no signs of either raising his hand nor speaking out.

" _Potter_!" Snape raised his voice. "Harry Potter! Are you deaf, or just plain stupid?"

Harry sniffed and rubbed his nose but still did not respond. Now everyone was looking right at him.

Snape glowered. "You!" he pointed right at Harry. The boy immediately snapped to attention and responded, "Yes sir?"

Surprised at actually getting a response where he'd expected to continue being ignored, Snape faltered for a moment. Just a moment.

"Why did you not answer when I called you?" he asked, speaking softly once more.

"You didn't call me, sir," Harry dutifully replied. "You called for Harry _Potter_. My name is Harry Son."

Snape scoffed, but refrained from any immediate comment. "You are in fact here, are you not?"

"Yes sir," he answered, "I, Harry Son, am present."

Terry Boot, who was sitting on his right-hand side, covered his mouth and ducked his head as he tried to restrain the laughter that was bubbling up. On his other side, Hermione Granger just sighed and shook her head, exasperated, as the scene had played itself out in all but one of there classes.

After taking roll, he stood before them once more and stared at them with his coal black eyes. "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses." Here he stopped for a brief moment to gauge their reactions before continuing, "I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death—if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

There was absolute silence after this little prepared speech. Harry frowned, thinking over what the man was promising. If he was telling the truth, and not just exaggerating to get the attention of a bunch of eleven-year-olds, then as far as long term utility, making potions seemed to be most of what magic was good for in the real world, as his mother would say. The rest, all the lights and charms and transfiguration, all of that may as well be compared to what his father and his friends could do. Therefore he decided to hold off on making any snap judgments for this teacher and this class.

"Potter!" Snape said suddenly, "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry, despite being cognizant enough to realize the man was in fact talking to him, did not respond. He just sat there and stared ahead, giving no indication he'd heard the Professor utter a single word.

Glowering at the young student, Snape said with more intensity, " _Potter_! Answer me when I am speaking to you! Potter!"

He just sat there, although he did scratch a small itch he was getting behind his right ear.

Hermione raised her hand. Snape ignored her.

"Do not ignore me, boy!" the Professor warned. Pointing this time, idly noting that he snapped to attention as before when this was done, Snape repeated the question, "Answer me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"Asphodelus is a genus of mainly perennial plants, including _Asphodelus Aestivus_ , or the common asphodel, _Asphodelus Albus_ , or white asphodel, and _Asphodelus Ramosus_ , also known as branched asphodel. In this case, I will deduce that you are referring to powdered root of _branched asphodel_ , as the other two are used as supplementary additives to a number of home remedies and vitamins. As for wormwood, I can only assume that you are referring to _Artemisia Absinthium_ , an herbaceous, perennial plant most commonly used in the production of spirits and other fluid substances too numerous to name. Done properly, I can only surmise that in accordance with our text books, these two ingredients are put together only for the creation of a single potion. The _Draught of Living Death_ , which can bring upon it's drinker a very powerful sleep that can last indefinitely. Only Potions Masters of exceptional skill can successfully brew this draught and due to the danger in its use, it is highly regulated only to the Potion Masters who brew them, and trained Healers, who are the only ones permitted to legally use it on other human beings."

The room was quiet after Harry finished speaking. Most everyone was staring at him. Hermione's mouth had dropped open in outright shock. Snape was frowning.

"...Where did you come up with that answer?" the Professor asked at length.

"My mother had me and my brother memorize a floral guidebook when we were eight," he answered with a shrug. "The guidebook included lots of information about what each plant gets used for as well as some history about each. When it was discovered, how it got its name, things like that. When I was going over my Potions books, I noted the ingredients listed all use the common names for things, rather than the full scientific name, so I had to make some assumptions. In how you asked the question, I recognized that it was powdered _root_ of asphodel, and based on some of the mythology of the asphodel plant, I easily deduced that you were talking about branched asphodel. And wormwood... well there's really only one kind."

If Hermione's jaw wasn't firmly attached, Harry might briefly have worried that it would have gone through the floor by now.

"Tell me Potter," Snape said, pacing up front a bit now, "Where would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?"

Harry sighed and sat back, arms cross and face pinched in a bit of annoyance.

Grumbling, he pointed, "Tell me where you would find a bezoar?"

Sitting at attention, he answered, "I'm sorry sir, can you rephrase the question? I don't believe I can give you the answer that you are expecting with the way you've said it."

Eyes narrowed, Snape repeated, "Where can a bezoar be found?"

Harry nodded and answered, "A bezoar is a mass that gets trapped in the gastrointestinal system, usually the stomach, though it can be found in other areas of the digestive and waste tracts. There are in fact several variety of bezoar; Food boli imitate true bezoars ability of negating poisons and are composed of loose aggregates of food items such as seeds, fruit pith, or pits, as well as other types of items such as shellac, bubble gum, soil, and concretions of some medications. Pharmacobezoars are mostly tablets or semi-liquid masses of drugs, normally found following overdose of sustained-release medications. Trichobezoar is a bezoar formed from hair—an extreme form of hairball. Humans who frequently consume hair sometimes require these to be removed. The Rapunzel syndrome, a very rare and extreme case, may require surgery. So... I guess to properly answer your question sir, I need to know exactly what type of bezoar you are referring to. Otherwise, my tentative answer would be, inside somebody's stomach."

Looking around, he saw that while everyone was still staring at him, most of them looked kinda sick.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Harry didn't answer.

"Why don't you answer, don't know all of a sudden? Have I finally stumped you?" Snape taunted.

Leaning forward slightly, green eyes flashing dangerously, he did answer this time.

"My name is not _Potter_." Falling back, arms still cross, he added as a parting shot, "And in answer to the question that was not directed at me in the first place; none. _Aconitum_ , also known as _aconite_ , _monkshood_ , _wolfsbane_ , _leopardsbane_ , _womensbane_ , _Devil's helmet_ or _blue rocket_ , is a genus of over 250 species of flowering plants belonging to the family Ranunculaceae, of the order Ranunculales, of the class Magnoliopsida, of the division Magnoliophyta, of the kingdom Plantae. It is a well known poison."

Snape's face was set into a permanent scowl, his arms wrapped around himself, though without the cloak it made for a slightly less intimidating visage. The entire classroom was silent, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. Everyone was looking back and forth between the annoyed Harry Son and the extremely annoyed Professor Snape.

Malfoy, who had been watching this all unfold from the Slytherin side of the classroom, barely restrained a gulp of nervousness. He had expected his godfather to humiliate Son so he could help in knocking him down a few pegs. Now it seemed that whatever last vestiges of patience Son had at being called 'Potter' by everybody had been worn away and he was letting his true colors show once more. Having seen the boy's power first-hand, Malfoy felt no shame in admitting that the Boy Who Lived was indeed more powerful than him. In fact, he was so much more powerful that he was more than a little envious of it and wanted it for himself. Therefore he was biding his time and looking for any and every opportunity that he could possibly take advantage of. Unfortunately, there had been precious few.

"Detention," Snape growled, his tone quiet but dangerous. "This afternoon. Now all of you sit down, shut up and pay attention because I will only be going over this once!" He then began to lecture and wrote things up on the blackboard. Unlike with practically every other Professor in the school, Snape did not just tap the board with his wand and allow the chalk to magically write itself. No, he picked it up and did it himself, which was arguably worse for the students than the teacher who had chalk dust all over his black robes. His handwriting sucked.

As for Harry, he shrugged off the punishment, having expected it going in, and started writing out notes with what the Professor was lecturing about and writing up on the board. As it turned out, that was merely the instructions for the potion they would very shortly be brewing, a common cure for boils that had been in existence for several hundred years.

While doing that, he also thought over what he should do in regards to his afternoon detention. School regulations, which he'd memorized along with all his other school books, stated that when assigned punishment, the student had to run the punishment by their Head of House first. Harry really didn't have any problem with serving detention, it might very well give him an opportunity to see what Professor Snape's problem was with him. No, Harry's problem was that he technically didn't have a Head of House.

As they gathered supplies for their potions, Harry shrugged again and decided to go and see the Headmaster first thing after class. At the very least, maybe he could assign one of the teachers, maybe Professor Binns, to be his "Head of House".

END "Episode 3: Hogwarts Lessons"


	4. Hogwarts Keeper of the Keys

Episode 4: "Hogwarts Keeper of the Keys"

 _Hagrid's Hut_

 _Hogwarts Grounds_

 _Friday Afternoon, September Sixth_

Immediately after Potions class ended, Harry sought out the Headmaster.

Overall, it was an interesting and valuable lesson. From reading the book assigned for the class, Harry knew that there were five fundamental aspect used in the creation of any potion; the ingredients, the base (usually water or some other infusion), the temperature, the actual mixing process, and (not as much with most common potions but vital in the more complex ones) stellar cycles, be it positioning of the moon, the sun or even certain stars in the heavens. Fortunately for the First Year class's first potion, stellar cycles had nothing to do with it and all they had to do was put the proper ingredients in the boiling water at the right times while maintaining a constant clockwise stirring. Unfortunately, if one were to put the ingredients in at the wrong times... things got... explosive.

Having completed his potion in a matter of minutes as he could control the temperature of his cauldron quite easily with his ki, not to mention the speed of his stirring allowed the ingredients to mix that much faster, Harry was done before anyone else and was just letting his potion cool for the latter half of class. While he was waiting, he looked around at everyone's progress.

Neville, he noticed, was about to dump in the correct number of porcupine quills to the potion... _while it was still on the fire_!

There was a blur of motion and a stiff breeze swept through the enclosed dungeon, making a few people sneeze from the smells it picked up. Harry had raced across the room as fast as he could move and grabbed Neville's wrist to keep him from adding the ingredient. He then, as Seamus and Neville stared wide-eyed at him, picked the boiling potion up and took it off the fire. To their looks he said, "Porcupine quills enable the potion to penetrate the skin in order to fully remove the boils. But if it is still boiling, the quills will activate the potion too early and it will 'penetrate' everything it touches like acid. Wait until it stops boiling before adding these." Only then did he let go of Neville's wrist.

Of course he got in trouble with Snape for that, and his detention was doubled, seeing as he couldn't have points taken away. At the time, Harry just shrugged and walked normally back over to his own potion, casually catching the extra quills thrown at him that would have landed in his assignment, ruining it. He then tossed them back from where they came, probably putting a bit too much energy behind the action as each of the quills wound up embedded in the stone wall and ceiling.

Out of the dungeons of Hogwarts now, Harry sought out the first portrait that he came across and asked for directions to wherever the Headmaster was at that moment. The portrait's occupant, a Sir Cadogan, immediately agreed and began to lead him on a merry chase through all the other portraits in the castle until they did finally reach the one across from a stone gargoyle. Just behind it, and up about five flights of stairs, Harry could sense the Headmaster.

"Thanks Sir Cadogan, I've got it from here," he waved off the odd character. Turning to the gargoyle, he tried to figure out a way to get past it. Then he focused his magical senses a bit and realized that the gargoyle was more than just a statue. It had magic as part of it. Shrugging, and seeing no harm in asking, he said to it, "My name is Harry Son, I am a student of Hogwarts and I would like to speak to the Headmaster if you please."

The gargoyle remained as motionless as a statue, for all of ten seconds, before it jumped to the side and a rotating staircase was revealed. "Thank you," he said as he passed the gargoyle and ignored the stairs, flying up in a tight spiral until he reached the door to the Headmaster's office.

Once there, he gently set down and politely knocked on the door.

"Come in, Harry," Professor Dumbledore's voice came from the other side.

"Thank you, Professor," he returned as he walked into the Headmaster's office.

"What may I do for you, Harry?" the Professor asked.

Harry stepped forward and took a seat before the ornate desk, only casting a passing eye on all the glittering devices scattered throughout the room. Shrugging, he replied, "I came to inform you, as the closest thing I have to a 'Head of House', that Professor Snape has assigned me detention."

"Oh, I see," Dumbledore nodded, part disappointed, part acknowledging. "Well, not to worry my boy, not to worry. I'll have a talk with Professor Snape. You won't have to attend the detention."

Harry's head came up, the surprise evident on his face. "I don't?"

 _Curious_ , Dumbledore thought to himself, while aloud asking, "Is that not why you came to me?"

Harry shrugged, and then shook his head. "Well, no Professor. The student handbook stated that we are to inform our Head of House of all detentions and punishments. I, well I don't really have a Head of House. I'm a student of Hogwarts. You're the closest thing to a Head of House that I have. I'm merely informing you. I'm more than willing to serve the detention, although I do fail to see how my answering questions warranted a detention in the first place..."

The disappointment had vanished, to be replaced by satisfied understanding. "Ah, I understand the confusion that might elicit," he said, eyes twinkling, grandfather-smile in place. "Still, I shall talk with Professor Snape about this, and until I approve it, one way or the other, you do not need to attend the detention, Mister Son. Now, go on and enjoy the rest of your afternoon. Not to worry, I shall take care of everything," Dumbledore added when he saw Harry hesitating.

"Thank you sir," Harry nodded. "I think I'll go and visit Cousin Hagrid then. Thank you for your time."

Five minutes later, he was downstairs and outside on the Hogwarts grounds. He knocked on the door to the thatched hut. Immediately the sound of barking echoed from within, as well as cries of "Back Fang! Back!"

The door opened and a giant of a man stood there. His face was almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard, but you could make out his eyes, glinting like black beetles under all the hair. He was holding the large boarhound back, barely, by the thin leather strip collar around it's neck.

"Harry! Glad to see ya!" he exclaimed.

"Hello Cousin Hagrid," Harry greeted in return. "Mum and Grandad send their best wishes."

"Oh that's nice, that's nice indeed," Hagrid replied, openly smiling at the sentiments. "Tell me, how are the folks on Fire Mountain? Haven't seen'em for few years now."

"Everyone's great, you should come visit more often. At the least you should be able to make it during the summer months when school is out. And I'm sure the Headmaster would give you time off if you asked him for it. He's a nice man."

"Aye, great man Dumbledore is, great man," Hagrid nodded his agreement as he pulled out some... er, 'refreshments' for the two of them. "But I can't too rightly see myself leaving Hogwarts any time soon. It's my home."

Shrugging, Harry leaned forward and grabbed one of Hagrid's infamous rock cakes. "Well of course it is, but so is your villa on Fire Mountain. It's where your dad is buried, and while your mum is a bit of a, how did Granddad call it? Oh yeah, a wandering spirit, she still visits with your brothers from time to time. Mmm! Wow, these are just like Granddad makes! How'd you get the recipe from him? Mom says he won't even tell her, and when she makes them they're never quite the same."

Blushing, Hagrid shrugged and picked some crumbs out of his beard. "So, uh, how're things with you, Harry? How are your classes?"

"Not bad," he admitted with another shrug. "Actually pretty cool. History is interesting, I like the Professor, he's neat. But Astronomy... I don't think the Professor likes me. Not to mention the Potions Professor gave me a detention for correctly answering the questions to his pop quiz, but the Headmaster said I didn't have to go. This place is pretty different from home, that's for sure!"

"Aye," Hagrid nodded his shaggy head. "Wait a tic, you think _History_ is cool?!"

Harry enthusiastically nodded his head, munching away on the rock cakes.

"Blimey, things sure have changed since I went here," Hagrid sat back in his sunken chair, stunned.

"Well it's mostly because I ask questions," said Harry. "In fact, from what the other kids say, all he does is read out of the books. When I'm in class, well, I'm asking so many questions from the start that we never even open our books up most of the time."

"Heh, aye, that would do it," Hagrid nodded. "Most folks never even bother with the questions, they just focus on catching up on sleep. Er, so I hear anyway."

Harry laughed.

Hagrid smiled, leaning back, a soft twinkle in his eye. "Tis good to hear ye laughing again, Harry. I still remember when you were a wee little tyke. Always laughing at the silliest of things. Or just laughing because you could, I suppose."

"Wish I could say that I remember, Cousin Hagrid, but I was just a baby at the time. Of course," Harry laughed again. "Of course, according to some, Gohan was off saving the planet from being pulled into a black hole at the same age. Growing up hearing some of that, always made me wonder about how I could be part of a family of heroes."

"Now see here, Harry!" Hagrid sat up. "Just cause yer not blood-relations with yer mother's... er, yer aunt's husband, don't mean yer not part of a family of heroes!"

"I know Hagird, I know," the boy nodded his head sadly.

"Yer Mum and Dad..." Hagrid began.

"I know the stories, Hagrid," he interrupted the friendly giant. "They were my bedtime stories up until Piccolo-sensei took me and Gohan for training. And then before I left for Namek with Dad—Goku, Mom sat me down and told me everything."

"Er... uh, ev-everything?" he stammered, suddenly nervous.

"Mom and... OK, let me start over," Harry paused to swallow the last of his rock cake and follow it down with some of Hagrid's version of tea. "Li-li and Chi-chi were twin sisters born to the Ox King and his wife. About the time that Chichi met her future husband and helped him in saving the Ox Kingdom from a raging fire, Lily, using her middle name 'Evans' to hide her true identity, had already left for Hogwarts. At Hogwarts, here, Lily met a boy named James Potter, who according to Chichi, was a right bully and show-off. At least according to Lily's letters he was."

Harry took another sip of tea, gathering his thoughts before continuing his bedtime story for Hagrid.

"Seven years of schooling later, Lily and James were dating and both were Head Girl and Head Boy respectively. Chichi was... er, 'courting' Goku at the same time that he was dealing with Demon King Piccolo and the World Martial Arts Tournament. I'm told that Goku and James actually met a couple times, but always on Fire Mountain under the purview of the Ox Kingdom, behind closed doors. Apparently James liked to make flashy entrances and he was a notorious prankster. Goku, being Goku, laughed at every one of his jokes and pranks, even the ones played on him. Then everybody got married. Apparently Gohan and I were born mere months apart. One year later, on Halloween night..."

"Aye, I remember," the half-giant grumbled, pulling out a very different bottle than where his tea came from. "You-Know-Who attacked them. The house was a mess, half the wall blown off. James was... and Lily, * _sniff_ *, she was-was in front of yer crib!"

Harry nodded. Not remembering the events, not precisely, but knowing the story so well that he could picture it very clearly nevertheless.

"D-Dumbledore told me to keep you safe, that he was gonna set up some protections with yer mum's, er... Lily's blood kin. Cept, I remembered, or I knew that Lily t'weren't related to no... oh, what was there name again?"

Harry smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I remember Mom always got really, really mad every time those people got mentioned. Apparently the fake background Li-li got was so good that the official records had her related to some other woman whose maiden name was 'Evans'. Can't remember what her name was changed to, but it's a good thing that you did know that we're cousins, otherwise I can't imagine what my life might have been like."

"Dumbledore sure was mad with me though," Hagrid rubbed the back of his neck, blushing. "Great man, Dumbledore is. Still, don't ever want him mad at me again. I owe a lot to yer Mum, er, Chichi."

"Yeah, she is quite... uh, a handful," Harry agreed, albeit diplomatically.

"Only reason Dumbledore let you stay is cause of something yer... er, Goku either said or did. All I remember is that they walked outside for a bit, then when they came back in, they were both smiling and laughing and then Dumbledore took Goku off with him to one of the parties that were still going on all across the country."

"So _that's_ why Mom is always so nervous whenever Dumbledore and Dad get together!"

"Aye. Still some rumors floating about here and there about that night. And not for the reason you're famous for, Harry. Can never tell what's the truth and what might be exaggerating. Example; there's this one rumor about Dumbledore, yer Dad, and a goat wearing a suit and sunglasses..."

"Whoa, too much information there, Hagrid!" Harry immediately back-pedaled. "As far as I'm concerned, my Dad loves to eat, train, and hang out with his friends, and that is all! Anything he does with old wizards, or stuff he does with my Mom, I don't want to know about. Ever!"

Hagrid chuckled. "Aye, understand that. Well, look at the time. You best be getting back up to the castle, Harry. Best wishes to yer Mum. Oh, and to the King as well."

"He's your cousin too, Hagrid, I think you're allowed to call him by his name," said Harry as he got up.

"Aye, but he's still the king," the half-giant calmly disagreed.

Harry just rolled his eyes. "All right then, Cousin Hagrid. I'll be going now!"

"See ya round, Harry!" Hagrid called as the boy wizard walked out his front door.

Outside Hagrid's hut, Harry was surprised to be greeted by four very familiar faces.

"Hermione! Justin! Neville! Ron! What are you guys doing out here?" he asked, a smile on his face.

"Well, I can't speak for the boys, but it is the end of the first week of school, Harry, and I believe you have a promise to keep," Hermione answered, arms crossed.

"Wait, how do you know the Hufflepuff?" Ron interrupted before he could answer.

"Nice," Justin Finch-Fletchley remarked. "Maybe I should ask how he met two brutish Gryffindors?"

Harry shrugged and replied, "I met these three on the train in. Helped Neville out a bit. Answered Hermione's questions. Oh, and made Ron drool a bit."

"What?! I did not!" Ron exclaimed, face as red as his hair.

"As for Justin, well, first night here, I sat at the table of loyal badgers, and Justin was sat right across from me. We got to talking, and I told him some things about myself while he told me other things about himself. Such as the fact that his family is in charge of a Sporting Goods chain. I advised he might want to suggest to them that they invest in martial arts equipment if they hadn't already."

Now it was Justin's turn to blush. "Yeah, well, my Dad isn't really one to take business advice from his eleven-year-old son. I was originally planning to go to Eton, when my Hogwarts letter arrived. Gotta say, if the rest of the year is anything like this first week, I'm glad of my choice!"

"Harry! Your promise!" Hermione insisted, actually stamping her foot.

"Yeesh, are all Ravenclaws as pushy as you?" said Ron.

Narrowing her eyes in anger, she responded in kind, "Are all Gryffindors as thuggish as you?"

"Ah... I would have to... uh, say no?" Neville actually raised his hand as he spoke quietly.

"All right, all right, enough of that," Harry laughed, leading the way up to the castle. "I still haven't found a good enough place to train, but I suppose there isn't really any ideal location."

"Why not just an empty classroom?" Hermione suggested.

Harry laughed. Loud and hard, like she had surprised him with the funniest thing he'd ever heard out of the blue. Which, in a way, she kind of had. Seeing that none of them were laughing with him, he quickly stopped.

"Uh, right, well, once we get started, you'll see why that was so funny," he lamely told them.

"Couldn't you start us out with some basic theory? Like they are with magic classes?" she said.

Shrugging, Harry opened his mouth to speak, and then shut it as he came around the bend, slowing to a stop shortly after. Hermione, Justin, Neville and Ron also all halted beside him.

Standing right in the middle of the path, just outside of view from the castle, and likewise from Hagrid's hut, was Draco Malfoy. He wasn't alone.

"Malfoy," Harry said as greeting, his friends behind him.

"Son," Draco returned the greeting, the entire First Year Slytherin class behind him.

"Two to one odds, or close enough," commented Harry as he stepped forward. "Are they here for support, or to help?"

Draco smirked. "Against you? Oh, they are absolutely here to help. You tipped your hand Son. You're more powerful than even the rumors could concoct. And now I know it. I'm not about to face you without adequate planning ahead of time. But you've been causing quite the stir this past week, and you need to be shown your place. And I'm here to show it to you."

"Harry!" Hermione called out.

He instantly held up his hand, but towards her, not the antagonists as they might have expected. "Stay back, all of you! I got this covered. Let them go, Malfoy. You don't want to make this bigger than me. I defend my friends a lot harder than I defend myself."

At the simple and straight-forward statement, Draco found himself frowning a bit. And not in the two-year-old-about-to-have-a-tantrum frowning, but the I-think-I-just-bit-off-more-than-I-can-chew kind of frown. Harry Son was more powerful than anything he'd ever heard of, and he grew up hearing about how the Dark Lord was the most powerful wizard since Grindelwald, who he was also more powerful than. But the Dark Lord didn't shoot energy blasts with his hands, fly faster than the Hogwarts Express, or bend steel with his bare hands. Son did. And so far, the Boy Who Lived had treated all of Draco's attacks on him like they were playing a game. Draco, as confident as he was in all that he'd been taught and raised to believe, was not so stupid as to believe that he would stand a chance against his rival if said rival actually got serious. He couldn't afford to take the chance that he would start. Not before Draco was better prepared for it at any rate.

"Nobody target the losers," Draco ordered. "Surround him. And Son, I'm not responsible if they do something stupid like getting between us and you!"

"Agreed," Harry shrugged and turned to his friends, even as all the Slytherin First Years surrounded him in a loose circle, careful to make sure they wouldn't be shooting at each other over his head. "Guys! Stay back! I've got this covered. Nothing to worry about."

"Now that is where you're wrong," Draco snarled, brandishing his wand. "You've got plenty to worry about, outsider! Don't think you can come here and change centuries of tradition just because you're a bit more powerful than one or two of us. Against all of us, you're no different than the rest of the sheep in this school."

Harry smirked and asked him, "You did at least train up a little since last time, didn't you Malfoy?"

"FIRE!" Draco ordered and then moved his wand in a straight jab motion, and pronounced, "Stupefy!"

At the exact same moment, every other Slytherin made the same motion with their wand and pronounced the same spell. A lengthy heartbeat after that, red bolts of magic energy flew out of the tips of all their wands and flew straight and true... at Harry's chest.

Glancing all around and behind him, Harry actually sighed, his shoulders drooping a bit as he said, disappointed, "Apparently not." He then powered up and charged his energy with magic that was the exact and total opposite of the type he felt in the bolts that were only halfway to him by the point he was done. When they struck, they all dissipated against the flowing energy coming from his body, exploding in little red streamers like paint from a paintball gun. Only one that doesn't leave a stain after it explodes.

In the aftermath, there was a stillness that spread all around. Nobody could believe what they'd just seen with their own eyes, but they had indeed seen it, and it had really happened.

Harry, however, just continued standing there, fists at his side as though nothing had happened at all. After a few moments time, Draco lost patience and screamed, "FIRE! Get him! Teach him that he's nothing against all of us together! _Sectumsempra_!"

After that, each Slytherin started casting different spells, some as harmless as what they'd learned in class already, others not so much. Harry remembered the day he and his dad arrived on Namek. How much faster his dad was when not held back by 100 Gs. He also remembered that trick that he pulled on those two from the Ginyu Force. Given the circumstances, Harry really couldn't help himself. After all, he too had been on the ship under 100 times normal gravity, he was pretty fast himself.

So, when the spell bolt from Draco's curse was about to hit, Harry leaned out of the way as fast as he could at the last possible moment and after it had fully passed, he resumed standing in the exact position he'd began in. To those observing at 'normal speed', the curse had gone right through him and out the other side without affecting him in the slightest. Others had cast spells and curses of their own. The ones that would do little to no harm, Harry dodged as easily as he had Draco's curse. Three in particular, cast from Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, and Pansy Parkinson were as dangerous as the curse Draco had used, though he didn't yet know enough to identify them, he could feel the malevolence and dark magic needed to cast them in the first place. Furthermore, those particular spells, he could tell, would create a 'splash effect' that would hit or affect the people around him if he merely dodged. So those he deflected up, putting an extra layer of magical protection around his hands even as he did so at super speed, always returning to the same position after moving.

Growling, Draco cried, " _Sectumsempra! Sectumsempra! Sectumsempra!_ "

Theodore Nott, behind and on Harry's left, was similarly frustrated and tried his hand at something he wasn't even supposed to know, let alone be able to cast at 11 years old. " _Crucio_!" he whispered under his breath.

Opposite Nott, Blaise Zabini turned his nose up and then took a deep breath loudly exclaimed, " _DEPULSO!_ " Now _that_ , Harry couldn't ignore. He wasn't entirely sure what the spell was for, not really, but he could feel the force being generated and while it wasn't anything that would bruise, let alone kill him, it could be enough to knock him over.

He felt a soft ache coming from Nott's direction, but considering he felt more pain from his daily workout burn, he casually ignored it, instead focusing on dodging the last of Draco's curses. The moment he'd passed the last one, he had almost no time to do anything about the wave of force coming from Zabini. Almost was plenty.

From everyone else's perspective, Harry had just stood there, still as a statue and somehow become intangible! Except for three curses, which were somehow instead deflected upwards where they exploded harmlessly, the rest all went right through him and dissipated against the trees and rocks all around them. Then Zabini cast something that only Hermione knew anything about (at the moment) and when it struck Harry... _he disappeared_!

And not the typical magical way of disappearing, it was like he'd vanished entirely and without a sound, one second there, the next gone!

That is, until he landed on his feet, apparently having just fallen from a great height. It took a moment, but finally everybody understood that somehow Harry had _jumped over_ the spell Zabini had shot at him, causing more than a few of those gathered to start looking up and then back at Harry and then up again.

"What are you?" Draco demanded, sweating more than a little by now.

Harry grinned at him, the first real move that anybody had seen him make in the confrontation thus far. He then vanished, only not really. Some of them might have thought he was Apparating, save for two facts. Numero Uno; you cannot Apparate or Disapparate on Hogwarts grounds, the wards are ancient and have never been bested by anyone or anything known to Wizarding kind. Secondly, there was no 'crack' or 'pop' sounds that usually accompanied a wizard Apparating. And last but certainly not least, Harry hadn't disappeared because he was standing right in front of Draco Malfoy, less than an inch from touching noses.

The young Malfoy heir screamed and backpedaled, jumping away from the other boy that was suddenly way too close. Tripping over his own feet, he fell down, forcing him to look up at the adopted child of the Son family. It was pure coincidence that put the sun directly behind his head, forcing Draco to squint as he looked up at the shining shadowy figure.

"I'm a fighter Draco. Have been for a long time now, most of my life in fact," Harry 'happily' answered Draco's question. "And much as I love my father, and what he teaches, I was trained by a real sadistic bastard to be the fighter that I am today. So I've got one rule when it comes to starting fights. I don't start them, and I give people one chance. Only one chance, to stop the fight before I finish it. Malfoy? That one chance ended after your first salvo."

Draco gulped and tried to scramble away, but Harry just bent down and picked him up by the neck, making sure not to choke him too bad. There was a hysteric scream coming from behind him.

"Let go of him, you freak!" Pansy screamed and cast the stunning spell again. It dissipated harmlessly against his back.

Harry glanced over his shoulder. Pansy gasped, or more like choked on her gasp of terror, falling back in obvious fear. To her, it was like Death Itself had taken one look at her, weighed, measured, and judged her and found her wanting. Those green eyes, cold, hard, like living embodiments of the Unforgivable Killing Curse, just staring at her, seeing right through her. It terrified her and traumatized her like nothing in her brief life ever had before. She would have screamed, but she wound up choking on it, just the strangled gasp leaving her throat. He, on the other hand, just shrugged, let go of Malfoy, and then punched him in the gut before he'd even fallen an inch. The blonde boy went flying fifty yards further up the path to the castle. Everyone present gasped at the sheer violence of the simple and straight-forward act.

Crabbe and Goyle both roared and charged Harry from behind. He waited until they were almost upon him before getting behind them in a flash of movement. He lashed out in two quick strikes, kicking each in the ribs, sending them flying off in opposite directions. The remaining Slytherins, seeing this, started casting spells and curses at him at random. One of those curses rebounded and nearly hit Hermione in the face, if she hadn't ducked out of the way that is.

After that, the expression on Harry's face changed, from casual and a bit of happy-go-lucky, to somewhat angry. The witches were targeted first, and rather than punch or hit them in the torso, Harry just dislocated their arms and broke their legs, their femur bones to be specific. In each case, he made very sure they were clean breaks. Nott and Zabini, the only boys left, well Nott was struck in the face and then kicked in the chest, sending him flying like all the others, but Zabini took one punch and was out like a light.

Pansy, on the other hand, was still standing where she had been from the start, tears running down her face, soft hiccup sobs coming from her throat. Harry walked right up to her, took a hard look at her, then grimaced and let go of his anger. He patted her on the head and she crumpled to the ground, crying out loud, almost wailing really.

"Uh, come on guys, we'd better get a teacher down here," he said, starting the trek back up to the school.

"Is... is... are they going to be all right?" Hermione asked as they passed Draco, laying unconscious on the ground.

"Just some broken bones and bruises, nothing permanent," he shrugged. "I think I kind of scared Pansy though. All I did was look at her though!"

"Yeah, but it was the _way_ you looked at her, mate," Justin said.

"Yeah, I about wet myself and you weren't even looking at me!" Ron added.

"Who do we, uh who do we tell about this?" Neville asked.

Rather than answer, or perhaps as an answer, Harry walked up to the gargoyle right above the entrance to the school grounds. "We need the Headmaster and the Heads of Slytherin," he paused and looked back at his friends, "Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw Houses here. As soon as possible if you please."

"Harry, why are you talking to a statue?" Hermione asked him.

Before he could answer, the gargoyle opened its eyes and replied in a surprising smooth baritone voice, "They are on their way. Stay where you are."

Seeing the look on her face, he smiled and shrugged again. "I could sense that it's a magical construct, same as the one in front of the Headmaster's office, and since it didn't need to leave and go ask face to face to get permission to open the door, I figured that this gargoyle could also communicate silently with the Professors. Professor Dumbledore certainly. And I was hoping all your Heads of House as well."

"But why...?" Ron started to say, but Hermione shushed him.

"You can sense magical constructs?" she asked.

Harry just smiled and nodded.

Before they could get much more into idle chitchat, the Professors arrived at the gate to the school grounds. They all rallied behind the Headmaster, mostly because they all had received strange summons from the gargoyle statues placed intermittently around the school and thus were somewhat confused. One of their number was the exact opposite of confused.

"What have you done now, Potter? Something so bad the school itself won't let you back in until you are _properly_ punished?" Professor Snape said the moment he spotted Harry there waiting for them.

Harry coolly ignored Snape and turned to Dumbledore. "Good afternoon, sir. I apologize for taking up your time like this, especially seeing as we concluded out earlier meeting not too long ago, but... well, you see there's been an altercation, and it involves students from all four houses, as well as myself. So I thought I'd err on the side of caution and get all four House Heads together to make sure there's no... mismanagement of blame."

Dumbledore felt the stirrings of a headache, but nevertheless he maintained his posture and smiled understandingly at the Hogwarts Student, his eyes twinkling brightly as he endeavored to understand the boy. "That is perfectly understandable, Mister Son. And I appreciate your concern. Perhaps if you were to explain what precisely this altercation involved?"

"This way sir," Harry turned and began walking down the path to Hagrid's hut. It didn't take them long to get to the site of the incident in question, the Slytherins were still where they'd left them and nobody else had come along.

Seeing his godson and all the other First Years of his House laid out on the ground, either moaning in pain or blissfully unconscious, Snape lost the last vestiges of control that were keeping his temper from erupting. "YOU LITTLE...! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY STUDENTS YOU BASTARD SON OF A BASTARD WANKER?!" He then launched himself at the younger and smaller wizard, his intentions unknown, but the way he held his hand indicated he wanted to throttle the boy.

Harry almost casually ducked out of the way and backed up, angling away from the rest of the group, and unfortunately towards some of the still conscious Slytherin First Years. Snape dove for him again, but this time when the boy dodged, he tripped the older wizard, sending him on top of the girls, eliciting cries of pain and fear from them. The next time, he just stepped aside so that Snape wound up kicking Malfoy in his bruised ribs, followed by stepping on the unconscious boys gonads. That seemed to be enough to finally wake the blonde heir up, albeit in a most painful fashion.

" _Enough_ Severus!" Dumbledore shouted.

"Headmaster, he—!" Snape protested.

"I can see perfectly well what Mister Son has done," Dumbledore said, his voice uncharacteristically grim. "Perhaps if you would stop chasing him for a moment, inflicting even more pain on your students, then he might be allowed to explain himself."

"Explain himself?!" Snape cried, exasperated.

Ignoring his irate Potions Professor, Dumbledore turned to the five students present and asked them point blank, "Please, tell us what happened." He raised his hand, halting them from speaking all at once. "Let's begin with Mister Son's version of events, shall we?" They all ignored the strangled cry coming from Snape's general direction.

"Thank you Professor," Harry began. "After the conclusion of our meeting, I took your advice and came down here, alone, to visit with Cousin Hagrid. We're related on my Mom's... er, I suppose technically she's my aunt, well, on Son Chichi's side of the family. Hagrid's mother is the second cousin of the Ox King's biological mother. I'm really not sure how distantly related that makes us, but I've always known him as Cousin Hagrid. Anyway, after an hour or so, we finished catching up, so I started to make my way back up to the castle when I ran into my friends here. Hermione was curious about my promise to her, and the others came to see me although they never gave specific reasons."

"Miss Granger?" Professor Flitwick gave a surprised look to one of his most promising students.

"It... er, uh, it has to do with what was discussed that first day in class, Professor," Hermione mumbled, her bushy hair covering her blushing face.

"Ah, carry on then, Mister Son," the Charms teacher acknowledged.

"Well, just as we got to this point in the path from Hagrid's home, Draco Malfoy and all those you see around you revealed themselves. They were, quite literally, standing between us and the castle, our ultimate destination. Mister Malfoy and I exchanged words, he then ordered the others to surround me, I allowed them to, and then they attacked me simultaneously with the same spell that that Seventh Year student, the Head Boy fired at me on the train. They must have practiced quite a lot to get so well in sync the way they did. After that, Mister Malfoy shouted, and I quote, 'Get him. Teach him that he's nothing against all of us together.' And then they all started shooting a wide variety of spells and curses at me that I could not easily recognize. Finally one of them shot the Banishing charm at me..."

"Oh, which one?" Professor Flitwick interrupted again, looking excitedly at the prone bodies all around.

"Filius!" Professor McGonagall snapped. "Not now!"

"The one called Blaise Zabini, I believe sir," Harry answered. "Anyway, I jumped out of the way of that and then when something that I believe could have been the cutting curse, at least from the descriptions I've read, came very close to hitting Hermione. After that, I... retaliated."

"You retaliated?!" Snape screamed. "You nearly killed them! Headmaster, I want him expelled!"

"Severus," Dumbledore warned him with a sharp glare. "Please continue, Mister Son."

Shrugging, he said, "Well, I'm afraid that's it, Professor. I disabled all those firing spells at me, and uh... I'm afraid I scared Miss Parkinson rather badly, and then I went straight to the gargoyle construct over there and asked that you all come here straight away."

"Enough lying Potter! What spells did you use? Where is your wand? I'll get the truth from it at the least!" Snape moved forward, intent on finding and tearing the wand from his target's body one way or another.

Seeing this, Harry reacted on instinct, despite knowing better. Hindsight and all that.

The moment Snape's hands were in range, Harry's own shot out in reflex, grabbing the older man's wrists and twisting, leaving his defenses wide open. He then punched the man on the inside of the elbow with sufficient force that he instantly dislocated his arm from its shoulder socket. Moving with the motions this caused in his attacker, he jumped up and did a rapid spin-kick to the sternum, sending him flying back over ten feet.

"MISTER SON!" Dumbledore yelled, but of course it was already over.

"Sorry, but he was grabbing for me. I don't like being grabbed," he said defensively.

"Nevertheless, I would greatly appreciate it... no, in fact I must _insist_ that you never again attack any of your teachers, no matter the reason!" Dumbledore ordered.

Frowning, he looked up at the Headmaster, an expression of confusion on his face.

By this point Snape, being much older and having experienced Voldemort's own Cruciatus Curse once or twice, had recovered and was limping back to the group, his arm hanging loosely from his side. "He attacked me! You all saw it! I want him expelled!"

"From what I saw, it looked like self-defense!" Hermione exclaimed, and then immediately turned as red as Ron's hair and covered her mouth with both hands.

"Hm, I would agree," Professor McGonagall said.

"As would I," Professor Sprout said, speaking for the first time.

"Enough, you can visit Madam Pomphrey after we're done here, Severus," Professor Flitwick waved off the Potion Master's injuries. "So what you're saying here, Harry, is that Mister Zabini cast a Fourth Year spell, well enough that you actually had to dodge it rather than counter it as you do everything else?"

"Well Professor, it was the first time that I'd seen the Banishing spell, and I don't know for a fact that is what it was. It could have been anything. The word he used though was ' _Depulso_ ' and it created a wave of enough force sufficient to knock me back some three to five feet if I had allowed it to. In the amount of time I had, I couldn't brace myself well enough to avoid being knocked down, so I dodged it instead. Now that I've seen it, I would like to say I'm more prepared for it."

"Filius, we're getting off track," Dumbledore admonished the Charms teacher. "Mister Son, how did you cause all these injuries to so many at once?"

"Oh it was incredible, Professor!" Ron exclaimed, so excited that he couldn't contain himself any longer. "Harry was all _whoosh_ and then _wham bam kick_! Then _whoosh_ again and he...!"

"Mister Weasley!" Professor McGonagall snapped, shutting the young boy up quite nicely.

"Yes, I suppose it is time to get another's perspective," Dumbledore said. "Miss Granger, perhaps you might elucidate upon Mister Weasley's... rather colorful commentary?"

"Um, yes sir," she squeaked, eyes wide and her face going pale. "Malfoy cast the spell _Sectumsempra_ at Harry and somehow, I do not understand precisely how at this time, he dodged so quickly that the spell bolts seemed to go _through_ him some how. The others all cast their spells, I recall that some of them were _Diffindo_ , _Conjunctivitis_ , _Relashio_ , and _Reducto_. I also noticed something like the Stinging jinx being used, but I did not hear the precise wording or saw who used it. When Zabini used _Depulso_ , Harry disappeared, although I quickly determined that he had merely jumped very high faster than we could track. He landed and then disappeared again, appearing in front of Malfoy. He picked Malfoy up by the throat and then punched him in the chest. From there. Malfoy landed where he is now." She pointed to where Harry had been standing.

"Crabbe and Goyle charged him from behind, and then he was suddenly behind them and he kicked each of them once and they're still where they landed. The others started firing randomly, and Zabini almost hit me with a rebounded curse, and after that, Harry broke all the girls bones, which I could tell from the noises made as he hit them, and punched and kicked the others until they stopped attacking. He only hit them once each."

"Well, except for Nott," Harry admitted. "Had to hit him twice before he'd stay down. He's tougher than he looks." The way he said it, everyone honestly believed that the fighter was giving the other young wizard an actual compliment.

"Parkinson was crying, he hadn't touched her, except to pat her on the head," Hermione finished. "And then we all went to the statue and waited for you to get here, like Harry said."

"Mister Finch-Fletchley?" Professor Sprout called on her student.

"It's exactly like she said, Professor," he said, " _Exactly_ like she said. I swear."

"Hmph!" Snape scoffed.

"And you two?" Professor McGonagall questioned her own pair involved. They silently nodded.

"Well clearly a case of self-defense," Professor Dumbledore stated after some silent deliberation. "Although I am very disappointed at the level of escalation used here."

Harry shrugged and remarked, "Just be glad it was me and not my sensei. Or Vegeta."

"Still, Mister Son, violence is never the answer," Dumbledore admonished the student. "No matter what the reason, you should never attack those weaker than yourself."

Harry shot Dumbledore another confused look.

"I don't believe this!" Snape screamed, wincing in pain with every word. "Potter not only gets away with disrespecting me in my own classroom, he _attacks_ my First Year students, and then he goes and _attacks_ me, and convinces others to lie for him, and HE'S GETTING AWAY WITH IT!"

"Now Severus, I acknowledge that Mister Son was defending himself, but in light of this... incident, I cannot overlook this. I understand that you were defending yourself, Mister Son, Harry—" the boy's confusion shifted to a glare and a soft cough from McGonagall had him correcting himself immediately, "—Mister Son. But you should have ended the confrontation before anyone got hurt and gotten one of us here much sooner. Therefore I believe you will carry out the original punishment from earlier. Detention with Professor Snape this coming Saturday evening."

" _DETENTION_?!" Snape roared, wincing and cradling his arm at the pain. Speaking softer, "I want him _expelled_ for _attacking_ me and my students, Professor!"

"Why do you keep saying that I attacked you?" Harry interrupted.

"Because you _ATTACKED_ ME!" Snape screamed in the boy's face.

Harry blinked, wiping away some spittle, and then blinked some more, trying to clarify his confusion. Suddenly his face lit up in understanding. Smirking, he turned away from the group, towards the forest not too far from where they stood. Just visible through the trees was a large rock outcropping, the tail edge of the surrounding mountain range. Calmly, smoothly, he held out his right hand, palm open, toward that rock. Before anybody could ask or say anything about his actions, a shining golden glow appeared in the palm of his hand and faster than a spell from the tip of a wand, there was a controlled explosion in the form of a beam of light blasting out from his hand and impacting with the rock outcropping.

Instinctively, everyone cowered and covered their eyes and ears as the flash of the explosion blinded them. Moments later, once the noise had settled, they saw smoke and dust still flying out from where the rocks had been. Emphasis on _*had*_ been!

"I think there's been some confusion, Professors," Harry said, smirking still. "I admit that I may be a little more violent and physical than what you might be used to. So I am sorry for that, but in my defense, I did spend no less than three years of my life growing up in the wilderness with a real sadist as my only teacher. Albeit not consecutively."

He turned to the Potions teacher. "Professor Snape, I apologize for injuring you, but I would like to avoid any future confusion at all costs. I did not attack you. I did not attack your students. They may have attacked me, but I did not treat it as such. They were just saying... 'Hello'. I merely... replied with the same. If I were to attack you, Professor, please know and be very certain of what that might entail. When I attack someone, anyone, I do not hold back. At all."

Turning back to Dumbledore, he said, "I promise not to attack any of the teachers here while they are my teachers, Professor. But I give no such promise to... my replies. I shall attend the detention, Professor. Would you like help getting everyone here up to the Hospital Wing?"

"Uh, yes, Mister Son, that would be—uh—most appreciated," Dumbledore said.

Harry went and got Crabbe and then Goyle, flying them up to the Hospital Wing's outside windows and putting them on the beds there. By the time he got back for the others, only Pansy and Draco were left, the others having been levitated along by the Professors, with the obvious exception of Professor Snape.

Speaking of whom, he was still staring at the open display of destruction caused by an eleven year old boy. It would have taken the Dark Lord twice as much effort as that boy used to cause the same devastation, and a good three seconds longer to pronounce the spell, which had to be spoken to get the maximum effects out of it. It was the first clue that had actually penetrated Snape's blinding hate of James Potter that the offspring of said man may actually be very different from that which spawned it. Sadly, for Severus Snape's sake, one clue, no matter how earth-shattering, was not quite enough to free him from his long entrenched hatred.

For Draco Malfoy, the smoldering crater in the woods was just further evidence that Harry Son was more powerful than anything he'd ever heard of. Somehow, this boy, once the Boy Who Lived, had attained a power greater than anything his father had claimed the Dark Lord had ever known.

Draco wanted that power. He wanted it for himself and he silently vowed as he stared at the smoking crater, that he would do whatever it took to get that power. And he would use it to make himself more powerful than He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and Grindelwald and all those that came before!

Pansy, trapped in the terror of her own fear, sat there on the ground, still crying. While Draco was basking in his avarice and making vows of grandeur, she was making one of her own. She'd seen, seen in those terrible eyes, she'd seen just how weak and pathetic she truly was. She vowed to never again be that weak, to never again be seen as pathetic. She swore it on her magic and everything that she had and was and ever would be.

END "Episode 4: Hogwarts Keeper of the Keys"


	5. Hogwarts Punishments

Episode 5: "Hogwarts Punishments"

 _Hogwarts Dungeons_

 _Saturday, September 7_

That Saturday, Harry reported to the Potions classroom in the dungeons after breakfast. Professor Snape was there waiting for him. Miraculously, or perhaps the word is magically, Snape's dislocated shoulder was not in a sling like it would normally be. Then again, Harry had seen the Senzu Bean at work so seeing proof that magic could heal an injury like a dislocated shoulder with no long-term pain or recovery period wasn't as impressive as it might have been for anyone else.

Snape let him into the dungeon classroom and then locked the door behind him. He stalked back around to the only other remaining door to the room, the one that, presumably, went to Snape's private office and lab. Standing in front of the door, as though guarding it from Harry's mere presence, he scowled and glared at the young boy.

"Your detention, _Potter_ ," Snape growled, "is to clean the Potions lab until it is pristine, do you understand me? Wait here while I get your cleaning supplies, which will be the only method available to you to clean with. Not to worry, Potter, that's just the beginning. And if you move from that spot, I'll know and cleaning will be the least of your worries."

That having been said, he spun around, fluttering his robes once again, and stormed through the door behind him. Harry waited precisely ten seconds before moving, a grin slowly spread across his face. Moving as fast as he could without breaking the stone walls and floors from the amount of force used, he moved all the furniture and non-secured items out of the way, while cataloging exactly where they were at the same time.

Once that was done, he stopped and closed his eyes. Focusing on his magic, he controlled his breathing until he managed to create another mana sphere. Unlike the one he'd made in Charms Class, however, this one was not destructive, and it was colored a sparkling blue-white periwinkle. Slowly, carefully—like a cell dividing itself—the blue magic ball split into six identical, yet smaller, spheres. As directed, they each went in a different direction, and struck each wall, the floor and ceiling. Where they struck a light the same color as the balls themselves spread out like a drop of oil on paper, until they reached the very edges of the surfaces they struck. In the wake of this light, as it faded out, Harry could make out the gray-white color of the marble stones that the dungeon was made from. There were, however, still a couple of dark smudges and stains here and there.

Charging just enough energy to burn off the stains without damaging the stones themselves, Harry quickly flew about the room, zapping and burning away the black spots until the entire Potions Lab practically glistened in it's off-white marble setting. To clean the entire room had taken maybe three, five minutes at the most.

Sensing that Snape was soon to be on his way back, Harry focused on his magic yet again. Another mana sphere appeared, this one transparent and a literal rainbow of colors, though not in any set pattern. Rather than split and strike each wall, the sphere merely exploded and in its wake the dungeon looked exactly as it had before. Harry raced around, faster than before, putting everything to rights and then stood precisely where he had been when Snape left.

The moment that he stood still, the door slammed open and Snape stood there, a sneer on his face. It was obvious from everything to his stance, to the look in his eyes that he expected to find Harry either up to something, or at least trying to get out. The disappointment was just as clear.

"I told you not to move, Potter!" he snapped, covering his disappointment.

Harry didn't respond, just looking expectantly to the Professor, his arms crossed.

"Get started," Snape ordered, throwing down an empty bucket with a wooden brush at the bottom.

Harry shrugged and dropped to his knees, grabbed the brush out of the bucket, and starting at the entrance to the classroom, he began to 'scrub away' the illusion he'd cast on the floor and wall.

"Stupid boy, don't you know anything! Use water and soap you—!" Snape stopped mid-rant when he saw the results of Harry's 'dry scrubbing' on the floor. "How...?"

Harry ignored him and kept scrubbing, moving faster and faster with each passing second. All the while he used the opportunity as a training exercise, using the scrubbing motion and hunched over position to practice his blocking techniques while flying. As close to the ground as he was hovering, Snape couldn't tell the difference.

It took longer than it 'actually' took, using the brush. Some fifteen minutes later though, Snape was staring, jaw dropped in amazement and disbelief at the off-white marble stones the walls, floor and ceiling had become right before his eyes. In total, Harry's detention had lasted a little less than half an hour thus far. In Snape's mind, that could not be allowed.

"Hn!" the greasy-haired man grunted, and turned to the cabinet where all the potion ingredients for class were kept. "Sort these Potter! I'll know if you did it wrong and you'll have to start over from the beginning. Do it now!"

Without a word, Harry moved up to the ingredient cupboard, took about ten seconds to look over everything and then right before Snape's eyes, began moving at a blurring speed. Well, to Harry, it was actually pretty slow, but he was being extra careful with everything. To Snape, Harry's whole body started to blur and his arms were all but invisible!

The evidence, however, was inexcusable as all the ingredients, partially mismanaged over the years, part intentional messing with to give Harry more to do, were being moved and stored in the correct order and with the older and less viable materials being separated from the rest as well as being made more easily available so they would be used sooner.

Exactly one hundred and ten seconds after he started, (he'd been counting in his head), Harry finished moving the last ingredient and double-checked his work before stepping back.

Scowling, Snape tapped his wand and half the ingredient flew off the shelf and would have smashed on the near-pristine floor... except that Harry moved faster than before, caught all the flying ingredients mid-air, put them back in their jars, and put them all back on the shelf. All without saying a word and in a fraction of the time he'd done it initially.

 _'Hm, not bad training, these detentions_ ,' he thought quietly to himself.

Not to be outdone, Snape 'inspected' the cupboard and almost instantly declared, "It's wrong. Do it again. Right this time."

Harry paused, shot a look at the Professor and then at the cupboard. He reached over and grabbed an old Potions book that was lying about, and judging by the dust covering it, had been for a while. Flipping through the pages, he put it back before the Potions Master could say anything, although he put it with a stack of other old Potions books he'd noticed in the bottom part of the cabinet. He then blur-flashed and suddenly the ingredients were in a very different configuration.

"What the bloody hell are you trying about, Potter? I told you to organize the potion ingredients, not mess it up further!" he screamed at the boy.

Rather than say anything, Harry just bent and picked up the same Potions book and opened it to the course syllabus, IE the Table of contents, at the front of the book. It took Snape a moment to comprehend what he was being shown, but to a Potions Master of any caliber it was really rather obvious. Harry had put the ingredients in order of what potions they belong to in accordance with the order they came up as in the book he was showing. Taking the time to actually look over the current order of ingredients, Snape felt like pulling his hair out from the level of frustration he felt.

Once he was calm, he ordered, "Put them in the _proper_ order. Now!"

Snape blinked, there was a sound of glass being moved against wood, and just like that everything was in the proper order, or rather the same order as what Harry had put it in the first place. He slammed the cupboard shut.

There had to be something else in order to teach this brat a lesson!

"How's your arm, Professor?"

The question was innocent, in and of itself. Severus Snape, experienced prankster, bully, former Death Eater, and Head of Slytherin House, however knew better. There wasn't anything he could do to the boy that he couldn't shrug off with the same ease he had the rest of the punishments. The only thing Snape could say with certainty was that the boy hadn't used magic, he'd had a detection spell going non-stop since just under a minute after Potter had first arrived. There had been some odd fluctuations, but that sort of thing was common in Hogwarts, and Snape himself had done other magic while the detection spell was active, so he couldn't prove anything conclusively.

Ignoring the 'innocent' question, Snape merely growled out between clenched teeth, "That's enough for tonight, Potter! You can go!"

Harry just stood there and continued to stare at the greasy-haired man.

"Are you truly stupid? You can go! Leave! Your detention is complete!"

Harry nodded, bowed once, and then turned and left. The door was still locked, but that wasn't a problem as Harry just yanked the entire door free from it's place in the wall when it did not initially come free. He turned and smiled sheepishly at the Professor, shrugged and left without another word being said by either of them.

In the silence after Harry's departure, Snape let loose a roar, venting his frustrations. Nobody, not even the Slytherins themselves, came anywhere _near_ the dungeons for the rest of the day.

 _Great Hall_

 _Lunch_

Harry was sitting with the Gryffindors today. After he'd gotten out of detention, he'd reported to the Headmaster that Professor Snape declared his detention complete and after a weary look of disbelief from the old wizard, he was left to his own devices. So he went to lunch.

Ron and Neville immediately flanked him and seemed to position themselves as his self-appointed buffers between all his adoring fans. This happened no matter where he sat at, be it meal or classroom. At Hufflepuff it was Justin and another First Year, Ernie Macmillan, while across from him sat the two First Year girls, Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott. At Ravenclaw however, Hermione Granger was always at his right side asking a constant stream of questions, while his left side seemed to alternate so that every other First Year also got a chance to sit next to him, not that they ever said much, let alone could amidst the flow of Hermione's questions. At Slytherin, and yes despite the rocky start he had with Draco Malfoy and pretty much beating the crap out of all the Slytherin First Years the day before, he usually sat between, ironically enough, Crabbe and Goyle. Whether that was to guard him, or to guard the rest of the table _from_ him, he didn't care to guess, but it nevertheless made for interesting conversations. Not particularly stimulating, but interesting.

Today, being a weekend and thus casual dress, (no uniforms or robes), and the first weekend of the term at that, something very different happened. For starters, Hermione and Justin both came over from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff respectively and sat down across from him. Even more surprising was that Pansy Parkinson also came over and sat down nearby, though not at Gryffindor table.

"Well?!" was the first word Hermione said to him after sitting down.

"Well," he grinned before taking a bite of food, chewing and then swallowing it before washing it down with a drink, and only then continuing to speak, "My detention is over. So I pretty much have the afternoon off. Unfortunately, I still haven't been able to find any place suitable for our needs."

"Never mind that!" she exclaimed. "Just explain it to me so I can figure out the rest for myself! If all that is required is physical activity, I can do that anywhere. What I need to know first of all is what the difference is between what you do and every other martial artist on the planet!"

"Hmm," Harry rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You're right. Around here, you can pretty much train anywhere and everywhere. OK then," he started devouring everything at 'super speed', though no part of him blurred or 'disappeared', he began consuming food at a rate that even a champion eater would find nigh-impossible to keep up with. Once he finished, he said louder so that all those around could hear him as well as Hermione, "Gather everybody that wants to do this and meet down at that big open area with the towers all around it. That should have plenty of room."

"The Quidditch Pitch?" Ron clarified, probably louder than strictly necessary.

"Yeah, whatever, there," Harry confirmed, already walking out of the Great Hall.

Leading the way, he didn't look back until they were nearly there, but if he had he would have seen practically every student, other than a few select Fifth and Seventh Years that weren't present in the first place, get up and fall in line behind each other. So when they finally got to the Quidditch Pitch, there were very nearly five hundred student wizards and witches gathered in single file behind him.

"OK, so first thing—whoa...!" Harry said as he turned around, his eyes going wide. Even more surprising to him than the sheer number of people gathered was that there were older students among them. He'd genuinely believed that as they got older, wizards were generally like the Head Boy and Professors and would have dismissed anything he had to say or show off as fantasy or something not worth listening to. It was a surprise, a pleasant one, but nevertheless a surprise to see how wrong he was.

"Huh, well, this is a few more people than I expected," he admitted, speaking up so they could all hear. A few shuffled nervously, apparently sensing his words as him saying they weren't welcome. He quickly disabused the notion.

Jumping up and then flying into the air, he hovered there about ten feet in the air, crossing his feet beneath him, making it look to everyone like he was just sitting in open space.

"Unfortunately," he said, "this changes things a bit. I was originally just going to walk everyone through the basics and work with them one-on-one as needed. Since there are so many of you that makes one-on-one training rather tedious and more trouble than it's worth. So here's what we're going to do!"

Harry grinned as thoughts cascaded in his mind. He looked everybody over and made some quick decisions. What had initially started out as showing some close friends some trick so they'd at least have something to talk about and do together to help alleviate his boredom had just turned into the potential beginning of a Martial Arts School! Gohan would flip when he heard about this!

"I'm going to split you up into groups! Each group will be based on your physical capability, not magical ability! Once you're divided into your groups, I'll explain how it is exactly that I can do this and how each of you can do this too!"

Excited chattering broke out. Suddenly, a Second Year boy, Hufflepuff judging by the trim of his robes, stood above the others and shouted up at him, "Are you saying that you'll give us this power that you have? Flying, wandless magic and the like?"

Harry grimaced and sighed. "First of all, it's not wandless magic. It's ki, or energy if that's easier for you to understand. It's not magic at all. Magic is... not natural. The energy that I'm using to fly right now and do everything else you've all heard about, that _is_ natural. It's _LIFE ENERGY_! What you and I use just by breathing and walking around! The only difference is that I have been trained in ways to draw this energy out, strengthen it and use it!"

"OK, grouping first, questions and answers after that!" he announced and dropped back down to the ground. "I'm going to tell you a number! Number ones, go to the middle of the field! Number twos, go over down to those three posts with rings on them, what I assume are the goals! Number threes, go back over to the edge of the field by those towers!" He then started moving through the crowd, pointed at someone, said a number one through three and moved on, sorting through the nearly five hundred children and teenagers at a rapid rate.

He was mentally cataloging each and every one of them as he told them their number. There were three basic types, well four actually, but thankfully among this grouping it was just the top three. Once they were all sorted, he took to the air and began speaking again, shouting just to make sure they could all hear him.

"All right everybody, here's the deal! The only reason I can do what I can do is because of training and experience! If I didn't have that, I'd be the same as every one of you! What I'm offering to you, initially just to my friends, but now to all of you, is the same training I've gotten! Let me be very clear on this; I will be giving you the SAME TRAINING THAT _I HAVE HAD EVERY DAY OF MY LIFE SINCE I WAS FOUR YEARS OLD_!"

He waited, letting that sink in for a bit. "I just want you all to keep that in mind for later, that a child younger than a First Year went through what you're about to! So feel free to stop and leave at any time! I'm not forcing anybody to be here or do this! But know this, if you stop, for any reason, that's it! We can still be friends, but I won't train you anymore if you don't stick with it from the beginning!"

"Now! I've split you into three groups! If you're in the middle group here, that means that you're actually pretty strong and I can start training you immediately!" Everyone noticed that the middle group was composed of either older students or those that were very physically fit. Justin just so happened to be amongst this group.

"If you're over by the goals, well, that means that you have potential! It means that I can sense you have a lot of, or as much life force to draw upon as the strong group here! But physically, you're unfit and you have to work on your conditioning! So while I begin training the strong ones here, you lot will be running around the lake! How many times depends on how out-of-shape you are and how long it takes you to build up you power enough to grasp it easily! If you want to go change...TOUGH! START RUNNING NOW IF YOU WANT THIS TRAINING, OTHERWISE GO HOME!"

There was a lengthy pause as the echoes of his shout faded. Then somebody got up and started to walk to the lake, which was in the opposite direction of the castle. It was Hermione.

"DID I SAY GO FOR A LIESURELY STROLL? NO! I SAID RUN, NOW RUN!" The entire group by the goals immediately took off at a quick jog for the lake. Harry then turned to the last group.

"You lot, unfortunately, are what is classified as _WEAK_! You have barely enough life force to keep standing there breathing! Your bodies are fat, slow and so out of shape it's not even funny! You have ten times as much work to do as those with potential because not only do you have to get in shape, you have to build up your life force energy too! So from now on you don't walk anywhere, you run, and I'll be showing you some exercises that you WILL do daily! For your energy development, look behind you!"

Those that weren't shaking in impotent rage did as they were told. They couldn't see anything of particular note and looked back at the flying boy with confusion. Ron and Neville gulped nervously as they looked at each other. So much for Harry going easy on them cause they were friends.

"That mountain right in front of you? Run to the top and bring me back a stone from the peak! Doesn't matter about the stone, it's just a stone! But you are going to _RUN_ to the top of that peak _WITHOUT STOPPING_ and bring it back here! NOW!"

Ron and Neville were the first ones to turn and run, but were soon outpaced by the whole group, which was largest of the three. Once the last person of each group had gotten out of hearing range, Harry allowed himself to drop back to the ground, landing in the exact middle of the strong group.

"Let's begin, shall we?" he said to them with a smile.

 _Quidditch Pitch_

 _Evening_

The day had been very productive, in Harry's humble opinion. He'd begun by showing the first group ki, same as he had that first day in Charms class, only this time he described how it was that he managed to bring it out. The first group were those that struck Harry as being very physical, jocks to use the Western term for it. Therefore what they really needed was some experience in meditation. Once they had that down and could access and draw upon their ki, they would naturally figure out how to increase the amount of ki they had available to them. All it required was more physical activity and maintaining their body, something they had already been doing for years by now he judged.

The Potentials had the opposite problem, most of them could probably meditate with ease, but were unaccustomed to physical activity, hence the running. So showing them how to access ki first would be like giving a paralyzed kid motorized crutches—they wouldn't ever work at it to increase the strength of or the amount of ki available to them. By having them work at increasing their ki first and showing them how to access and use it _while_ they were working would cause them to associate one with the other and from there it was a natural development into being true fighters.

The weak ones, well that was just plain obvious no matter what way you looked at it.

The jocks had managed to locate and sense the ki inside them, probably from their experience with magic so far, he guessed. They weren't ready to bring out even a tiny spark yet. Though this lot had the highest power amongst practically all the students at Hogwarts, none of them were that strong yet. Not without a lot more training so that when they finally could manage a ki blast they wouldn't instantly kill themselves by _literally_ putting all they have into it. He needed to go slow with them.

The potentials were still running laps around the lake, a number of them had collapsed early into it, but he'd sensed it and immediately run over himself and offered them the opportunity to quit, reminding them of the fact that they can never come back for training if they do. They'd immediately gotten back up and kept running. Hermione had fallen around half a dozen times throughout the day. He'd only had to prompt her the first time, she always got back up herself every time after that.

The weaklings still had yet to return from their trek up the mountain. They were still alive and moving though; he had been keeping tabs on them. Just in case.

The sun was setting now though, and it would be time for dinner soon. As the hunger in their bellies increased, Harry could tell that the concentration of those around him were lessening with each passing tick of the clock. Finally, when every last one of them were doing more belly-aching than focusing inwards, he decided to call it quits for the day.

"All right," he said, drawing their attention from their empty stomachs to him, "We'll pick this up first thing in the morning. As soon as you wake up tomorrow, dress comfortably and come down to the courtyard and wait for everyone else to gather. If you get impatient, do a lap around the lake and then come back to that court yard until everyone is there. Go and get ready for dinner."

They didn't need to be told twice, practically every one of them jumped up and ran for the Great Hall, stretching out kinks in muscles and bones as they went. All except for Justin, who simply stood off to the side, waiting.

"Justin?"

"Yeah Harry?" the Hufflepuff looked up at him.

"Go on, I'll gather the rest. Promise," he smiled at his friend.

"Then I'll gather them with you," he smiled right back.

Harry laughed, shaking his head. "Fine then. Go and tell the others by the lake. Send them running back up to the castle. I'll get the strays stuck on the mountain."

"Are you sure you can find them all?" Justin asked, a bit worried. "I mean, only a few have made it back so far. Not even Ron or Neville have shown up."

"The ones that did show up cheated," Harry informed him. "They stopped before even starting on the mountain and came back with rocks they found in the gardens around the greenhouses. Ron and Neville and about four others actually made it to the top, went over it actually, and are about three quarters of the way down by now. The rest are still trying to get to the top. Those are the ones I'm going to get. I'll let those other six make it back on their own. So it's like they actually accomplished something that way."

"But they will have, won't they?" he asked, confused.

"As long as they see it that way, that's all that matters," Harry cryptically replied. Then he took off.

Justin hurried to the lake to find those still doing laps and to tell them they were done for the day.

 _Hogwarts Courtyard_

 _Early Morning_

It was an hour after sunrise. So while the sky was blue and the sun was definitely in the sky, it was still early enough that most would rather be in bed or still at breakfast than anywhere else. Being a Sunday, there were no classes, and being the end of the first week/beginning of the second week, what homework had been assigned had already been done by all those that gathered in the court yard as instructed.

There were a few stragglers, Harry noticed, but those were the ones that he'd had to carry back to the castle last night, as well as the few that couldn't sit still long enough during meditations. Surprising, every one of the Potentials that had been running were all here. In fact, they were the first ones back and a few of them, Hermione included, had already taken his advice and done a few laps around the lake by now.

Seeing no more late arrivals for the past few minutes, Harry stood up and jumped atop the broken well in the middle of the court yard. Once he was certain of everyone's attention, he spoke to them.

"All right, let's get started with basic stretching. Before I hear any complaints, show of hands, how many of your are sore and in more pain than you've ever been in, in your entire life?"

Practically every hand, except those from the first group, raised their hands. Some raised both hands. A couple gave pained expressions and despite trying, couldn't raise either hand.

"That," Harry smiled, "is because you did not stretch and loosen your muscles first. Lesson number six; Before doing any physical activity, it is always best to be loose and flexible instead of rigid and tense. For lessons one through five, learn lesson six first. Justin, John, Peter, Paul, Marie, and Adam!" He called on those in the first group, one from each Year (there were not enough Seventh Years present to bother). "You all are at least familiar with physical activity of some sort, I'm assuming sports. Show the rest, of your Year, how to properly stretch before a run. I'll be going around helping and correcting those that need it."

Fifteen minutes later, everybody was as stretched as a bunch of wizards and witches were going to get with no professional physical education program in place, and he jumped up on top of the well again. "All right! Groups one and two, laps around the lake! Group one, after ten laps, come back here for more meditation. Group two, you will keep running until I tell you that you're in group one. Group three..." He waited for the groans to die out. "Group three, as you've guessed, run up the mountain and get me more rocks. Those that actually made it back to the castle without my help... Good work!" After that, they separated to their assigned tasks.

Harry ran with the first and second groups for a while, but eventually that got boring (they were so _slow_!) and he ran over to the mountain and gave some pointers to the ones lagging behind. Not too surprising, before he left they were the ones leading the pack. A couple hours after that, breakfast long over and lunch not yet for hours still, he was in the court yard with the first group, coaching them through the focusing exercises he had gone through in order to control both his ki and his magic.

The former he'd been shown by Gohan as his brother had been figuring out most of it on his own in the wilderness amidst Piccolo's training. Towards the end, in the final months before the Saiyans arrived, Piccolo had shown the both of them how to better control their ki and gave them focusing exercises that they still did daily. The latter, well once he'd known that he had actual magic and not just some weird powers like Gohan had, he'd had to come up with all those exercises on his own. He'd perfected them in the weeks aboard the spaceship en route to Namek with his father under the intense gravity training they were doing. Those exercises showed Harry exactly what he was capable of and allowed him to boost his power further than it ever had been before, which in turn saved his life as learning how to form shields and reinforce his own body through magic kept him from being crushed when the magnetic storm interfered with the ship's gravity control and they were stuck at 100 Gs for the latter half of the journey.

In the case of his peers, whom he was teaching these things to, it helped them to get better control over their magic, thus keeping 'Accidental Magic' from occurring at any point, and showed them how to draw out their ki and focus it in a way where they could control how much they used of it. First way, to create ki blasts. After all, that's the way Harry had learned it. Boosting the body came later.

Half an hour before lunch, the first of those going up the mountain had made it back and deposited their stone in Harry's hand. The very first person back was quite surprising actually. It was Neville.

Harry had one of the 4th Years, who happened to play Rugby in Primary School and during the summer months with her community league, show them some cool down drills, so they didn't tense up after their exertion. He called in the second group some ten minutes after that and had them join in on the cool down. By the time the last of the stragglers had made it back, (as surprising as Neville being first, Ron was the very last) it was very nearly time for lunch, so Harry sent them in to shower and eat, but had them back out the moment they were done eating.

Harry himself sat at the nearly empty Slytherin table that day for lunch. His friends, those that he'd made before training anyway, were too exhausted and too hungry to come and sit with him. He didn't mind. Besides, he could eat in peace and once he was done, he left without too much fuss and a good twenty minutes before even the fastest eater was done at any of the other tables.

Preparing a little... challenge for the weak ones, he made it back to the court yard just as the first ones finished with their meal had arrived. They were not alone.

"Mister Son," Professor Dumbledore called him over from the doorway, "A moment, if you please."

Smiling, and not the least bit suspicious about the Headmaster wanting to speaking with him, he went over to the old wizard and said, "Good day, Professor! Can I interest you in joining us for some simple training basics?"

"Oh no thank you, I..." the old man trailed off, his brow raising nearly to his hairline. "Training _basics_ you say?" he repeated.

"Yes sir," Harry nodded. "As I've explained previously, to both you and her Head of House, Professor Flitwick, Hermione Granger was curious about how I could do what I can do. Once I explained to her that it's merely some extra training, she all but begged me, at every opportunity, to train her. My other friends, specifically Justin Finch-Fletchley, Neville Longbottom, and Ron Weasley, likewise asked if they could join in. Yesterday, after Professor Snape released me from my detention, I told my friends to follow me and we went outside to begin training."

Here, he paused and scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed. "In hindsight, I realize I probably should not have 'announced' that I would train them and anybody else they thought might want to join in, right at the end of lunch in the middle of the Great Hall, but how was I supposed to know that so many were interested?"

"Yes, quite," the Headmaster pursed his lips.

"Mister Son," he said, "while I can appreciate the... eccentricities of many family's... er, traditions, I'm afraid that your... training has created quite the disturbance these past two days."

"Really? In what way?" Harry crossed his arms, head angled to display his curiosity.

"The Slytherin First Years," Dumbledore said in reply.

"That wasn't training, that was an introduction, and according to you and Professor Snape, an attack. It was not training."

"Wednesday night."

Harry huffed in annoyance, turning his head away.

"Yes, not training either, but nevertheless a disturbance due to your liberal display of your trained abilities," Dumbledore argued. "Normally I would not do this, in fact I dare say that I would never allow it if any of my fellow teachers acted in such a manner, but this disturbance is... well it's quite disturbing, Mister Son."

"Say what you have to say," Harry said, still looking away.

"I would most appreciate it, Mister Son, if you were to curtail your... exuberance of the past week in displaying precisely how _different_ your life has been thus far. Despite all that magic allows us, wizards cannot fly under their own power, and _if_ a school full of _teenagers_ were to suddenly develop and worse _using_ the destructive power that you so casually displayed the other day... I shudder to think of the consequences."

Harry frowned, arms still crossed.

Seeing that he was not exactly getting his point across, Dumbledore continued. "Mister Son, I'm quite certain that you are neither dim nor unobservant."

"Polite way of saying 'Blind and Stupid'," Harry shrugged.

"Yes," Dumbledore frowned a bit himself. "So you are no doubt aware by now that the majority of the staff are in fact _not capable_ of matching your feats in any safe way. While I'm sure we could follow you on a broom, you've already demonstrated you're even more agile in the air than the best racing broom on the market. And while any of the Professors could match or exceed your feat with the boulder the other day, it would take us a good deal longer and with far more energy, while you yourself seem quite capable of throwing those small bombs of destruction around all day long."

Harry sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, the point," said Dumbledore. "I'm confident enough in your strength of character, Mister Son that you would in fact _not_ do anything of the sort. But can you say the same for all of those that you are teaching these abilities to right now? You've made no discrimination against the Houses, and for that I'm sincerely impressed. But you have both Slytherins and Gryffindors present. And Ravenclaws are notoriously competitive, as your friend Miss Granger has no doubt demonstrated for you this past week in Transfiguration class."

Dumbledore shifted his gaze to look out over the steadily growing group of students in training.

"Once you have trained them, taught them how to utilize the power that you yourself wield, how certain are you that they would not in fact start throwing around energy blasts all day long, just because they can?"

Harry frowned. The thought had crossed his mind, but hadn't really filtered through. Not in the way that Dumbledore was suggesting anyway. He'd mostly been thinking about what would happen if they pushed themselves too hard too fast. Harry vividly recalled the week that he'd been sick after attempting to match Gohan's Masenko ki beam during training with Piccolo. That his trainees would turn out to be like the bad guys his dad and friends fought almost all the time... A cold shiver ran down his back.

He let out a sigh of intense frustration. There went the idea for a brand new Martial Arts school. Now he knew why Master Roshi was a Hermit with only a handful of students instead of a millionaire martial arts guru in Hollywood or a government special agent.

"I've shown them too much already," Harry shook his head. "If I stop and tell them to get lost now, some of them are smart enough to put the pieces together, and that's _more dangerous_ than if I complete their training to at least the basic level."

"I'm not sure I understand your reasoning, Mister Son," said Dumbledore.

"What I use isn't magic, Professor," Harry explained. "It isn't an external force that fills up inside you to be used with the proper focus and tool, replenishing itself from interaction with the magic of the universe around us. I use my very _life force_! If we stopped now and one of them puts it together, there are three possibilities; one, the best case scenario, he or she figures out how to do it properly from the examples I've already given and what they watched me do. Two, most likely worst case scenario, they figure out how to do it but not properly and they start forcing out their ki in uncontrollable bursts until they run out... and die. Third, the least likely worst case scenario, they build up their ki, unable to control it, but instead of small bursts like a balloon flitting about losing air, it explodes, killing them and everything around for _miles_!"

"Ah, I see," said Dumbledore as he tried to hide the reflexive gulp of fear.

Harry let out another frustrated sigh, pacing back and forth a bit. "Compromise: Allow me to finish training them until they're all, all those that stick with the training anyway, until they're all at the same level. Then I cut them loose, telling them how they can get stronger if they want, but not actively training them. That way, they know that they can get stronger, the _proper way_ to do it, and more importantly what not to do. But! Without a proper trainer and a steady program to follow, they'll stagnate. Some might get as strong as me, others might fall back and even forget what I taught them or suddenly find themselves unable to do it because they didn't train regularly. But it will take them longer. Think years longer."

He shrugged, "I admit, my original goal was to train up as many people as I could, partly to have some friends that could keep up with me, but mostly to show off to Gohan when he finally gets here. But you make a good point, Professor. There have been others that could do what me and my family can do. And they weren't as nice about using restraint in their day-to-day lives. I had forgotten that."

"So instead of being half as strong as me in a few months, none of them will get even close to that level of power until they're eighteen years or older." Harry sighed a final time, putting his hands in his pockets. "Shame. Some of them have real potential."

Dumbledore considered the situation. Finally, he gave a sigh of his own and nodded.

"Very well, Mister Son. I give you permission to complete your basic training. But no more. If, _IF_ they continue on their own, well this is a school, not a dictatorship, so I cannot prevent that. But keep our discussion well in mind, Mister Son. Lest you create a monster that you'll have to put down, much as your father has had to do in the past."

Harry frowned, but as the Headmaster's words filtered through his brain, the frown turned to a scowl.

"What is that supposed to mean?" he snapped. "What do you know about my father?"

"I have had the opportunity to meet the man, my boy," Dumbledore laughed. "Quite a charming fellow, I must say. I dare say we even see eye-to-eye on quite a few differing subjects. It is why I'm certain that you would make the right choice here, Harry. You are most certainly your father's son."

Harry's scowl deepened.

"Professor Dumbledore," Harry over-pronounced each syllable of the old wizard's name, drawing the man's startled attention. "I can appreciate that you want the best for your school and your students, but don't think that just because you are my 'Head of House' by default, that it makes us anything other than teacher and student."

Dumbledore found himself gulping again, though he could not consciously say why.

"My father, Son Goku, is indeed a great man. One of the best there is, without a doubt. But allow me to clarify some facts," Harry stalked up to the Headmaster, poking him in the chest with one finger. "My dad loves to fight. It's in his blood. But he will do absolutely everything in his power to avoid violence or death as a solution. And as much as I idolize the man, I learned some hard lessons very early on in life, Professor. So while it pains me to admit it, I have no shame in telling you that I am not my father's son. That's my brother, Gohan."

"I am not just talking biology, Professor. Gohan is a gentle soul and like our father, he will seek to end a confrontation before anyone gets seriously hurt, if it is a possibility. Dad... Goku has never intentionally taken a life. Even when it was in the best interest of the entire universe that he should have!" Thinking of Frieza and Vegeta and others that Harry knew his father granted needless mercy to, only to have them come back and try to kill him all over again while killing lots of others in the meantime... it made Harry's blood boil.

"Same with Gohan. He hates the mere thought of destroying a life. He is the son of Goku, in more ways than just biologically," Harry looked down and stepped back. "On the other hand, I am my Sensei's student."

"Mister S-Son...?" Dumbledore stammered, silently cursing himself for the slip-up.

"Piccolo trained both me and Gohan after our... uncle came to visit. Piccolo put the monster down, permanently, and Dad..." He took a deep breath to center himself before continuing. "Goku was taken out of the picture for a while. So Piccolo trained us. We had about a month or two of raw survival training. Eventually we made it back home, but were confronted with a choice. The Saiyans were coming. And trust me on this Professor," the haunted look Harry gave him sent chills down Dumbledore's spine, "as bad as your Dark Lords, both named and unnamed, ever were, the Saiyans were a thousand times worse."

"Gohan and I decided together that we would fight the Saiyans together and we returned to Piccolo, saying goodbye to Mom from a distance. Piccolo trained us up, the survival training getting us up to where I'm training everybody there, plus a little further, and he took us beyond into real fighting skills. The point of my telling you all this, Professor, is that during survival training, and after, Gohan and I needed to eat. Gohan refused to kill the animals. I found out that I could stun them, but only for a few moments. One time I actually caused it pain, but I really don't like doing that. So while it was stunned... I killed it. Quick, clean, painless."

Harry shot Dumbledore a dark look, and said, "A year, give or take, after we beat the Saiyans, we went to the planet Namek, which I've told you. There we faced a monster the likes of which you've never imagined. As bad as the Saiyans, this creature was a _million_ times worse than them! And every last one of its henchmen and minions were just as bad as the Saiyans we'd faced. One of them could body swap. It switched places with Dad, forcing us to fight a familiar face. Gohan and the others were holding back, but I knew that it wouldn't stop there. It would commit atrocities wearing my adopted father's face and laughing all the while. I put him down as hard as I could, and the only thing that stopped me from killing my father's body was that he tried to do the body swap on one of the others that proved himself stronger than even my father, and we put him in a toad instead. I could go on, but I think I've made my point."

"I have one rule about fighting, Professor Dumbledore," Harry said. "I don't start them, and I always give people exactly one chance to walk away before I end it. I don't like fighting, the way my father and his friends do. It's never my first solution, and I don't crave it after a while like they do either. I'm actually on the opposite end of the spectrum. I don't train and fight because I want to. I train and fight because I _have to_! Saiyans. Frieza. Now Androids. There is always a threat, always an enemy that needs to be put down and put down _HARD_! That's why I train, Professor. That is why I fight."

He turned away and started walking back to the group, saying over his shoulder, "I'll stop group training after they master the basics. But I'm not going to stop training myself, and if they come to me, I won't turn them away!"

"Oh dear, that did not go the way I had planned," Dumbledore whispered to himself, turning away.

 _Black Lake_

 _Afternoon_

Harry walked back to the group, anger still clouding his face, but he quickly calmed and schooled his features as best he could. "Sorry about that," he apologized. "Slight change of plans everyone!"

Everyone snapped to attention. Though it had only been one and a half days, they'd already learned that it wasn't exactly pleasant when Harry's plans changed for them.

"Professor Dumbledore has made it clear that the Professors at this school, and therefore the authority figures at this school, are unable to do what I am training you to do," he explained.

There were some interested murmurs, but everyone mostly stayed quiet, listening to what else Harry had to say.

"Therefore, in the interest of continuing our education in a building rather than amidst a debris field, I have agreed to stop training you..." everyone suddenly started shouting protests, even the ones that had been complaining amongst themselves not two minutes previous.

Harry frowned and let off a low-power ki blast above their heads. The explosion silenced them immediately.

"Thank you," he said. "Now, as I was saying. I have agreed to stop training you _AFTER_ you have _ALL_ mastered the basics. So, in addition to these basics, rather than moving on to the next phase of training, I will instead be showing you _how_ to move on in the next phase of training. In short, I'll be showing you how to train yourselves so everyone can move at their own pace. One concession I insisted upon, however, was that if you have questions or need help with something, I will make myself available to you and will not deny you anything in the way of information just because. Unfortunately, the counter concession is that we won't be having any more of these large group trainings after the last of you is up to the basic level."

Harry nodded and stepped forward, towards the path to the lake. "Now, this is not a classroom, and I am not a Professor! So don't bother with questions, because guess what? We're still training! Group one, ten laps! Group two, you guessed it! Laps! Group three! Bit of a change-up for you. Instead of one goal, I've decided to give you all a bit of a challenge. I took a plant from Professor Sprout's Greenhouse, and put it on a cliff-face on your favorite mountain. First one to it and back gets to choose who returns it to her. Oh, and automatic promotion to group two."

The weaklings were gone before groups one and two had even made it to the lake shore.

After that, Harry joined everyone in the run around the lake, and he did make sure it was a _run_! While keeping an 'eye' on the weaklings as they climbed the mountain for the third time in two days, of course.

The first group finished their laps and rather than the court yard, he directed them to a small clearing just off the edge of the lake, furthest away from the school itself. He had them cool down and followed the second group around for one more lap. As they came to the same clearing, he tagged three people and had them cool down as well. Unfortunately, Hermione wasn't among those three, but he did notice that she redoubled her pace, as did the other Ravenclaws, after he pulled them.

Quarter of an hour of meditating later, he felt some spikes in ki. Surprising, but nothing to get excited about. Yet.

Mid-afternoon, the ki spikes occurred more often, but no less randomly. He tagged another two people from the second group, and was pleased to sense that mere moments after he explained the meditation exercises to them, he was feeling the same random ki spikes from them as those that had been doing it for two days already.

Around the same time, he sensed that someone had finally reached the plant he'd left on a cliff-face. Not so surprising anymore, he sensed that it was Neville. While he felt that there might have been a couple close calls, in the end there were no injuries serious enough to affect their lives and the whole group were soon on their way back, converging on Neville.

Even as he walked a couple other people through the meditation exercises, and then the whole group through the processes by which they can further train themselves after they were done, he sensed that the plant was now in possession of one of the other weaklings, one that was far weaker than even Ron was, who at least continued until he reached the same cliff before turning back. It wasn't exactly difficult to deduce what probably happened.

Sensing that the third group were very close to returning, Harry wrapped things up by having the enlarged group one do another ten laps and then meet back up at the castle for cool down before dinner. He was there when Marcus Flint, a 5th Year Slytherin, showed up at the front of the line, holding onto the potted plant like it was some kind of trophy, a big grin on his face.

"Thanks," Harry said, taking the plant without any preamble and rushing it back to the greenhouse, leaving behind an after-image to further confuse them. He 'reappeared' behind them and said, "Go ahead and cool down and then go in for dinner. We'll meet first thing, _before_ breakfast, and then again after class."

Looking confused, but too exhausted to think up the reason for why they were confused in the first place, they all went inside, though some actually did go ahead and went through the cool down exercises they'd been shown. They'd all gone in by the time Neville and Ron trudged up. Neville was sporting some bruising on his face and scratches on his arms and hands, and both were more than a bit dirty.

"Good job today, Neville," Harry said to his friend. "You too Ron, good effort. Tomorrow, Neville, you're with group two. Ron, I'm sorry, but you still need to get in better shape. It would be too dangerous for you to continue if you physically can't keep up."

Too out of breath to complain, and on some level genuinely understanding what he was being told, Ron just nodded as he bent over and held his head between his legs, trying not to throw up.

"Thanks Harry," Neville said, even as he automatically began the cool down exercises. Ron started a beat after him.

"You earned it. After all, I did say that the first to _reach_ the plant and get back would get promoted. Not the person that actually brought it back," Harry grinned at them. "See you at dinner! I'm feeling like Gryffindor tonight!"

 _Hospital Wing_

 _After Dinner_

"Draco! Draco, my darling! Wake up!"

"Hmm... Pan—Pansy? What are you doing here? Did he finally hurt you too?" Draco growled as he woke up. He was mostly healed by now, but unlike the girls with clean breaks, parts of his ribs were broken off and had already been absorbed by his body. Which unfortunately meant that the School Nurse had been forced to vanish those shards before they killed him and then given him a potion to regrow his broken (and missing) ribs. Beyond that, it was just some bruising, which he'd been told would heal up naturally over the next month or so.

"No, nothing like that," she urgently whispered, keeping an eye out for the Nurse. After all, visiting hours were supposed to be before dinner. "But I think you will like what he has been doing instead."

Draco shot the girl an incredulous look.

"He's been teaching his friends how to do what he can do," she told him. After a moment, seeing that he didn't quite get it, she reiterated, "He's been training them to use his mysterious power. That ki stuff he was talking about. What lets him fly, shoot energy and increase his strength and speed."

Draco's eyes widened and he sat up, but was forced back down from the pain. He managed to hold in the whimper though, gritting his teeth through the pain and asked, "He's been training his _friends_ to be like him? He's granting his power to others, not guarding it so he's the only one with the secret?"

She nodded and then got real close as she whispered, "And even better, my darling, is that when he started training them, a bunch of people came along with, including me, and he's been training _all of us_ to use ki."

Draco smiled. Only reason he didn't laugh was because of his ribs. His dreams were very nice.

END "Episode 5: Hogwarts Punishments"


	6. Hogwarts Rewards

Episode 6: "Hogwarts Rewards"

It had been three weeks since the start of the term. Hogwarts had changed, in more ways than one.

Harry had kept up his training regimen, both for himself and the other students. Early morning, just after the sun rose, he had them all running around the lake, keeping the weaklings running throughout breakfast, while the ones in group two got to eat and those in group one stopped after only a few laps and spent the rest of the time meditating and working on controlling their ki. After classes, in the afternoon, the weaklings in group three went for their daily run up the mountain, while the dwindling group two continued to run laps. By Monday, after only three days of training, practically half of those from group two had made it to the first group. The advantages of being magical meant their bodies healed faster than normal clearly evident.

Only a couple others, besides Neville, had finally developed enough raw life force to transition to the second group during that second week of school. Some of them, Marcus Flint for example, the Slytherin that had stolen the plant from Neville, had quit rather than continue running the mountain drill. When they showed up the next morning, Harry sent them packing, reminding them of his rule. Since then there had been at least one quitter per day. Except for Ron Weasley.

Surprising everyone, except maybe Harry, he kept with the exercise daily. The one that was perhaps the most surprised by this was Ron himself.

By the end of that week, the only ones running the lake were those in the first group as a warm-up to training with their ki. The weaklings that stuck with it and transitioned into running the lake had developed themselves well enough that he felt it was now safe to start teaching them the rest. There were, however, still those in the third group that had not yet made it to the second group, despite the additional exercise in the morning and afternoon together. On the bright side, they were definitely getting leaner since they only ate one meal a day now; dinner. Some spent the Lunch hour running laps around the lake now.

Other events that occurred on that second Monday of the term, all the Slytherin First Years got out of the Hospital Wing. Draco, having been told by Pansy, immediately tried to join in on the training sessions, only to be stopped by _Professor Snape_!

Stopped at the obvious path to power laid before him, Draco cast about for alternative means. The answer was almost elegant in its simplicity. There were still other Slytherins that had actually been in the first group from the outset, as well as more from the second and third groups that stuck with it. Draco simply approached these individuals in the Slytherin Common Room, privately of course, and basically bribed them into training _him_ and the other First Years. Pansy, of course, did it for free.

So while Harry was preoccupied with showing his peers how to properly channel and control their ki, Draco, acknowledging himself as weak, ran up and down the _biggest_ and _farthest_ mountain in the valley as many times as he could. He also ran laps around the lake _before_ the sun rose, and after dinner as well. In the afternoons and time before dinner, Draco meditated. Not actually trying to generate any ki, but merely doing the exercises that Pansy and older students had shown him, the same way that they had been shown.

On the following weekend, Harry had Ron (everyone else had either quit or transitioned to other groups by that point) running up and down _multiple_ mountains, while working closely with Hermione and a few others that had been in the original second group. Not surprising, they had grasped the meditation concept easier than the first group and had surpassed them all. Nevertheless, he waited until they were all at the same level before giving them the final secret. To make up for it, he'd been showing them other ways that they could continue training on their own, while waiting for some of the... er, slower people to show they'd mastered at least proper channeling of their ki.

The Monday of the third week of the term, there was a notice right outside the door to Harry's suite. A notice board had been put there during the first week and contained simple school announcements, posters, and other things like that. This particular notice was of the upcoming Friday free period, when there would be the first lesson in Flying by Madam Hooch.

The time and location had apparently been amended multiple times before the notice was 'officially' posted. It was now set for Friday at 3:30, in the middle of the Quidditch Pitch, and involved the First Years of all four Houses.

"Hn," Harry shrugged, crumpled up the notice and tossed it down the open lid of a nearby suit of armor. He already knew how to fly, why bother learning what was clearly an inferior magical way of doing the same thing?

The thought made him pause on the steps. What if there actually _was_ a magical way of doing the same thing? The _exact_ same thing, not the inferior use of an enchanted object? Harry shrugged, deciding that he'd probably go anyway. It also drove home the point that he needed to wrap things up with his... peers.

Most of them were ready to try generating ki. Hermione, the star pupil, had already learned how to boost her body, and perform the same physical feats that he could. She'd even confided in him that she had begun sensing energy and wanted his help in controlling it before it got too out of control. He'd planned on seeing who else could sense energy at that mornings training session, and then work with those that could during the afternoon. Seeing that their Friday afternoon training would be taken up by something much different, he changed his mind and decided to show the lot of them how to do it all at once instead.

He'd been hoping to get everybody to the same level before letting them go, but Ron was... well he wasn't sure of the problem exactly. The boy was tall for his age and he wasn't exactly fat or anything, but when Harry compared his total energy to others, it was totally below the average!

He wondered if the youngest Weasley boy had hidden powers, similar to what he and Gohan could do. With Gohan, it was like he had an entire planet's ki inside him that only came out when somebody seriously pissed him off. With Harry, well it had been magic. And yes, Ron was a wizard as well, but it just wasn't right his ki being as low as it was after two solid weeks of training. True nobody could sense the tremendous well of power in Gohan when he _wasn't_ pissed off beyond all reason...

Well, regardless, that was for later investigation. In the mean time, he had to get down to the lake and get everyone started on their energy sense training!

 _Quidditch Pitch_

 _Flight Lessons_

As the day approached, all of the First Years began to talk excitedly about learning to fly. Some more than others. Malfoy certainly did talk about flying a lot. He complained loudly about first years never getting on the House Quidditch teams and told long, boastful stories that always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters. One time, while telling his stories where Harry could hear, the adopted Son couldn't help but comment, "Helicopters are slow."

Malfoy's stories stopped after that.

He wasn't the only one, though: the way Seamus Finnigan told it, he'd spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broomstick. Even Ron would tell anyone who'd listen about the time he'd almost hit a hang glider on Charlie's old broom. Everyone from wizarding families talked about Quidditch constantly. Ron had already had a big argument with Dean Thomas, who was a fellow Gryffindor to him and Neville, about Football, aka soccer. Ron couldn't see what was exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly. Neville had caught Ron prodding Dean's poster of West Ham soccer team, trying to make the players move.

Neville himself had never been on a broomstick in his life, because his grandmother had never let him near one. Privately, Harry felt she'd had good reason, because Neville managed to have an extraordinary number of accidents even with both feet on the ground. Albeit, his recent training had curtailed that somewhat, facts were facts and the fact was Neville was a klutz.

Hermione Granger was almost as nervous about flying as Neville was. This was something you couldn't learn by heart out of a book—not that she hadn't tried. At breakfast on Friday she bored them all stupid with flying tips she'd gotten out of a library book called Quidditch Through the Ages. Neville was hanging on to her every word, desperate for anything that might help him hang on to his broomstick later, but everybody else was very pleased when Hermione's lecture was interrupted by the arrival of the mail.

It was somewhat of a novel experience for Harry as it was only his second letter that he'd received via owl. It was a tawny barn owl wearing the Hogwarts crest on a loose cloth collar around its neck, indicating it was one of the school owls that were made available to students that didn't own one of their very own. Harry gently took the letter from its beak and offered his bacon as payment. Stuff was too greasy for him anyway.

It was a letter from the Headmaster.

At first he was somewhat concerned that it might be a continuation of their... argument of the previous week, but as he opened it up, that appeared to not be the case.

 _Dear Mr. Son,_

 _It is with great pleasure and honor that I inform you that your adopted brother, Gohan Son will be joining you at_ Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry _thanks to the generous donations of the_ Fire Mountain Equal Education Grant _, a unique scholarship made available for this year, allowing the transfer of students from other educational institutions, including home schooling, in order to see whether they would enjoy the environment of Hogwarts. This scholarship comes into effect at the end of the month._

 _Therefore, due to your adopted brother's scholarship status, he will be required to bunk with you as he is not a full student of Hogwarts and therefore will not be placed into any of our standard available Housing, wherever he may end up being Sorted. Thank you for your tolerance in these matters, and congratulations to you and your family._

 _Yours Sincerely,_

 _A.P.W.B.D._

— _Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster_

 _P.S. - Please mail your mother and ask her to stop sending requests and threats against coming to visit!_

Harry laughed and put the letter away. Then, seeing the owl still chowing down on bacon, he pulled it back out and resealed it. On the outside though, he forwarded it to Son Chichi and put their home address on it. Before the owl could take off, he handed it the letter and whispered to it where he wanted the letter delivered to and who.

The owl immediately took off, knowing that it would be a long trip, both ways.

After breakfast, it was a standard school day. Until it came time for Flying Lessons that is.

All the First Years hurried down the stairs and the hill to the Quidditch Pitch. There, waiting for them, was Hagrid and Madam Hooch, a witch with short gray hair and yellow eyes like a hawk. They already had laid out about fifty brooms in four rows, each numbered according to how many were in each House.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

They all raced to stand next to an available broom, everyone staying in their House groups. Harry waited until most everybody had taken their positions before looking for a free spot and walking slowly over to it. Harry glanced down at his broom once he got to it. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.

Once everyone was in place, Professor Dumbledore, followed by the School Nurse, Madam Pomphrey, stepped out of the building at the edge of the Pitch. Harry guessed that it was probably the locker rooms for the sport they held here.

"I apologize for intruding, Madam Hooch, but I felt that I had best explain things before we get started," the Headmaster said to the Flying Teacher.

"Of course, Headmaster," she said with grudging respect. It was clear that she did in fact respect him, but it was also just as clear that she was annoyed with him being there and disrupting the way she usually did things.

"Students! Everyone! May I have your attention please?" Dumbledore spoke to the First Years. "Thank you. Now, I understand that this is highly irregular, some of you no doubt have older siblings that told you of this day, of when you would be taught how to fly a magic broomstick as they did. Normally we pair off the Houses and conduct weekly classes for the first three months of the term. That has been made more... difficult, with the participation of a student who is not in any of the Houses. The simple solution, of course, being to place this student with one of the other Houses, but in discussing this with all of your Heads of House, it was discovered that this would cause some minor rivalry to spark and could lead to... contention."

"Oh brother," Harry sighed and rolled his eyes. He was starting to regret not just choosing one of the four when the Hat asked him.

"So, in order to maintain school harmony, I, as Headmaster, made the decision that we will not split up the lessons for this year, and teach all the First Years together," said Dumbledore. "However, it is most unfair to leave nearly fifty children under the care of a single adult, no matter how capable or talented this adult might be. Therefore, I and Mister Hagrid, our Gameskeeper, are here to _assist_ Madam Hooch. Understand this, Madam Hooch is indeed your teacher in this regard, and what she says goes. Mister Hagrid and I are merely her assistants. Madam Pomphrey is on hand for the... inevitable injuries that will occur during this lesson and the ones to follow for the same three month period the course will last. Thank you for your attention. I now turn things over to Madam Hooch. Madam?"

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch as she stepped up to the front, "and say 'Up!' "

"UP!" everyone shouted. Everyone, that is, except for Harry Son. He kept his arms crossed and was almost glaring at the old and antiquated piece of enchanted wood.

"This is so... stupid," he said. Finally, shrugging after seeing everybody else either grabbing their brooms successfully, or continuing to shout "Up!" at it, he just held his hand over the broom and it leapt to his hand like it was magnetized, without him saying a word.

Extending his senses into the broom, his magic senses that is, he quickly determined that what enchantments still existed on it were in a bad shape and it was a bloody miracle they still worked at all. It was obvious, to him at least, how the charms and spells emplaced on it were _supposed_ to work, just as obvious was how each of them were misfiring or making the wrong connections or no connections at all. While Madam Hooch went up and down the lines, giving her instructions and correcting those that were not holding the brooms correctly, Harry closed his eyes and held the broom with both hands. Then a soft glow—nearly invisible in the daylight—came from his body and surrounded the broom. He began to magically correct what was wrong with the broom.

This, by no means, made him an enchanter. He had no clue how to go about casting any of those spells or knew how to put them on an object in order to make it magical. But like he said, it was obvious where things were going wrong and how they were supposed to be, so that was all he was doing. Correcting what was wrong and making the magic work like it was supposed to.

By the time Madam Hooch finally made her way to where he was, he'd mostly finished with it and was just removing his magic from it when she snapped at him, "Son! What do you think you're doing to that broom?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, adding very quickly after she shot a harsh glare his way, "Madam?"

"Why are you holding your broom like you were praying to it?" she snapped, her voice carrying quite well across the crowd. There was some tittering and laughter, though nobody could tell who from.

"I was fixing it," he shrugged. "At least it's not half broken anymore, but it's still slower than snails on sedatives."

"And what makes you think that you even know how to fix a Comet 300?" she snatched the broom out of his hand and took out her wand.

"I don't," he freely admitted. "But the charms and spells on it were so out of whack that there's no way I could ride that thing without it shuddering and bouncing with every wind-gust. Besides, it was clear where the paths of the original spells were laid, I just realigned the magic to where it was in the first place. Same as putting a wheel or a chain back on a bicycle, obvious and simple."

Madam Hooch could not believe her eyes. If she didn't know better, and she did, she'd swear she was holding a brand new Comet riding broom! She'd been doing maintenance on these things ever since she'd taken the job of Flight Instructor who knows how many years ago. Sometimes she let it slide, but regardless there was only so much a single person could do.

"Hmph!" she handed the trouble boy his broom back. As she showed him the proper way to mount and stay mounted on a flying broom, a crazy idea came to her.

"Son," she said as he demonstrated sitting on the broom for her, "How hard would it be for you to do the same thing for all the other brooms here?"

Sweat dripped down the back of her neck. It was absolutely crazy what she was considering here, but the chance to have her students work with _decent brooms_ again... it was dream she'd been longing for the past decade. The primary excuse was always, 'It wasn't in the budget, maybe next year', with lots of smaller and more meaningless drivel piled on as each year passed without new brooms.

"Not very," he answered honestly. "Hardest part is the tediousness of it. And there are nearly a hundred brooms here. Not to mention it would disrupt the class as everybody would be waiting on me and I have no idea how bad some of these might be."

"One point per broom, that's over a hundred points," she offered. "Headmaster said that for every hundred points you have, you get a reward of your own choosing, within reason of course. That's an instant reward that is."

Harry considered it, rolling his tongue across his teeth. Then he replied back to her, "Ten points a broom."

Narrowing her eyes shrewdly at him, she snorted. "Five points a broom and your next detention, whoever gives it, you take with me and I let you do whatever you want in my presence."

Harry's eyes lit up and offered his hand, "Deal!"

She shook it and then stepped back. "Go ahead and get started on your neighbors while I discuss this with the Headmaster."

Harry shrugged and grabbed the brooms from Neville before the boy could protest and analyzed the magic. He frowned upon seeing a whole _different_ set of problems with this one than with his. But thankfully the problems were all still obvious and he'd seen what had and hadn't worked in fixing his own broom. He was done with Neville's inside of ten seconds and handed the boy back the broom and then took Hermione's, who was on the other side of him. Again, different problems, but more were actually similar or downright identical to what he'd already seen in his and Neville's brooms.

"Ahem," Dumbledore spoke to the crowd, his voice magnified via magic. "If I may have everyone's attention once again? It would seem that we have a... specialist amongst you, as I'm sure most of you can guess. So, if everyone could please form a single file line, we will be handing each broom to this... specialist in order to modify them so some fine-tune maintenance might be done on them."

"Who do we hand them to?" somebody in the crowd of students shouted, no one could tell who.

"Why Mister Son of course," Professor Dumbledore replied, eyes twinkling.

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes, accepting the next broom and checking it before seeing what needed fixing. Things moved at a pretty steady pace, though there were some problem brooms that either resisted his fixing them, or were broken in ways that were _not_ obvious and so he just did the best that he could with them. Something was always better than nothing, after all. The whole thing added maybe half an hour to the entire lesson, but the moment Madam Hooch had everyone launch, fly straight for ten feet and land, everyone agreed that it was entirely worth it.

Neville, who'd been feeling nervous and had a premature launch was especially grateful as the broom flew gently and smoothly, instead of jumping straight up into the air, allowing him to overcome his fear and to get control in time for Madam Hooch to scold him. Thankfully, partly because of Professor Dumbledore and Hagrid's attendance, and partly because Harry fixed most of the brooms, in the end it turned out Madam Pomphrey wasn't needed, not even once. Not that she complained, if anything she was complimenting Madam Hooch on allowing her to get out and about for once.

Through all of this, and the primary lesson, only one student didn't bother even getting on his broom.

Harry watched the others, fixed a few other brooms that Madam Hooch brought out of storage to up his points by an additional one-seven-fifty, but beyond that he stayed at the sidelines, not participating at all.

"Something wrong Son?" Draco teased him, hovering nearby as most everybody was during the current lesson. "Not scared to ride a magic broom, are you? Or is it just you're... uncomfortable with something between your legs like that? Hahaha!" A few others, some not in Slytherin, laughed along.

"Bored, not scared, Malfoy," Harry replied, putting down the last broom that he could fix. Despite all the school brooms being nearly, or actually over a hundred years old, they all now flew like they were less than ten years old, some like they were brand new again. "Fastest Racing Broom on the market, according to multiple people, is the Nimbus 2000. Its top speed, which it can only reach after a solid minute of acceleration, is two-hundred-ten miles per hour. It also has a three-foot slide before it can come to a complete stop from its top speed and while it can make some pretty tight turns, it can only turn based on a single point in mid-air."

Harry floated up until he was at eye-level with Draco. "My current top speed is somewhere between 500 and 600 miles per hour, and I can reach my top cruising speed in less than two seconds if I go all out. I can also move and turn at any point I wish and I've even been able to turn my body in multiple directions almost simultaneously. Let me put it like this, Malfoy," Harry sighed as he returned to the ground, "Riding a broom is like putting on clothes of solid cement and then putting heavy chains connected to iron balls the size of Hagrid on every single one of my joints, and then trying to run underwater in that get-up. Only it's not water, it's a big pot of frozen hot-glue. So why in the Four Galaxies would I even want to get on one of these things, let alone fly it? And it's not like it's even training! If I try to fly around, _I'll_ be dragging _the broom_ , not the other way around!"

"So you're saying that we can move faster with ki than with magic?" Hermione interrupted.

Harry shrugged, overlooking the interruption as he answered honestly, "That's more complicated a question than you know. It is possible to fly with magic... just not the same way. Reason I don't like the brooms is because the spell that enables them to fly was very specifically designed. For normal people. For trained people, on the other hand, you'd have to design a whole new spell. I have found that it is possible to fly with magic the way I do with ki, and arguably it's even possible that one could fly even faster and be even more agile than someone with a thousand times more power and speed with ki. The catch being that you have to use the right spell. Believe me, I learned the hard way, which is why I came to Hogwarts in the first place, you can't use magic the same way you use ki and expect the same results, magic just doesn't work that way. Using a spell, however, gets you ten times the result with a tenth of the energy needed. Ki is physical and natural. Magic... is not natural."

"You've said that before," Hermione observed, landing and putting down her broom.

"And I mean it every time," he said.

"Teach me to fly!" she begged him suddenly.

"What?"

"Harry?" Neville landed next to the bushy-haired Ravenclaw, "Please, teach me as well!"

"What?!"

"Trying to take Madam Hooch's job now, Son?" Draco scoffed and flew off.

"Wait, WHAT?!" Harry yelled after the blond git, who'd flown away laughing.

"Harry, please!" Hermione and Neville both begged.

He stopped and looked them over and then over at the much-distracted teachers and then at all the students either hovering, flying, or trying to go higher than allowed. He also looked at what remained of the chore he'd been given and done mostly for the challenge of it. Now that it was done, boredom was starting to set in. And while Gohan was more than happy to alleviate boredom with good conversation and maybe a small word game or something like that, Harry had very early in life been addicted to always having something to do, even if that something was purely mental. In the current environment, that was quickly becoming more and more difficult.

"OK, follow me," he shrugged, figuring it might, at the very least, give him something to do for the rest of the lesson period. Besides, Hermione was his best student in energy manipulation and Neville was exceeding all previous expectations with every training lesson.

"Needless to say," he told them once they were sat down just outside the Quidditch Pitch, and thus outside the view of the teachers, "don't tell anyone about this. Don't repeat the lesson. Don't try to explain it to someone else."

"Why not?" Hermione frowned, believing knowledge should be freely shared, if only so she could devour more of it at any point she desired.

"Three reasons; one, it's potentially dangerous, for the same reasons why I kept training everyone in ki despite the Headmaster asking me to stop. Two, while the end result and what I'll be saying will be mostly the same, I'll be phrasing and explaining things in unique ways that each of you can understand, but no one else would. And three, mainly because I'll also be sensing how well, or not, you'll be absorbing these lessons and neither of you know what to look for, nor are you all that great at sensing energy in the first place."

"I'm better than most!" Hermione protested.

"Than most of the amateurs I started teaching the same time I started teaching you," Harry corrected. "Compared to me, let alone my sensei or any of my father's friends, you are very much a novice Hermione. Trust me, it'll be years before you even come close to my level, and while I have no doubt that you can reach the same level as my sensei, who is related to Kami, a being that can sense every single thing on this planet at all times, it won't happen overnight, nor should it. Therefore..."

"All right," she reluctantly agreed, "I won't tell anyone about these lessons, nor will I show anyone else what you teach us. Until you say that I'm ready to, of course."

Harry rolled his eyes.

"Hey! There you guys are!" a voice called out to them. Ron and Justin were approaching from the Pitch. Ron ran up to them, his face in a broad grin, still carrying his broom. "What are you lot doing out here? Madam Hooch is actually letting us fly in circles now!"

"We're learning to fly, if you must know!" Hermione snapped at him. Then her eyes went wide and her mouth made an 'O' as she blushed, blurting out, "Oops!"

"Way to keep a secret," Neville sighed and shook his head, while Harry merely arched an eyebrow at her.

"Sorry Harry," she apologized, her blush deepening.

"Whoa, wait, really?" Ron exclaimed. "Uh, Harry... can I...?"

"Seriously?" Justin exclaimed as well. "Can we learn too?"

Sighing and shaking his head up at the heavens, he waved his other friend over. "I guess so. But I'm not going to risk even more people coming to listen to me talk rather than the teachers! So I'll repeat myself just this once, do not share any of what I'm about to teach you with anyone else. It would be dangerous and my teaching method is unique to each of you and wouldn't work for anybody else. OK?"

Unknown to the others, but Harry had spoken loud enough to be heard from just around the side of the bleachers, where Draco Malfoy was hunkered down, straining to listen having followed the five students as they snuck out of sight. Having heard the comment about 'even more people', Draco knew that Harry had figured out he was there. It kept the young Slytherin from running off to either get one of the other Slytherins, or even the teachers to earn himself some brownie points. But when Harry actually started talking about and explaining how to fly with ki, all thoughts of leaving left him entirely. This was too good an opportunity to resist!

"But Harry, what about..." Justin was suddenly cut off in his request to share with the other Hufflepuffs. The vast majority of the House were already avid participants in Harry's daily training sessions.

"No Justin, you can't!" Hermione was the one to interrupt him. "You know the dangers of training with ki unsupervised! Now imagine that somebody tries to fly and they go shooting off uncontrollably, or they do it all wrong and drive themselves into the ground instead of away from it, or any other number of scenarios! Professor Dumbledore made Harry promise not to teach us too much too fast. In fact I kind of feel like we're breaking the rules just learning this at all." She grinned at them all.

Harry smiled and laughed, shaking his head. The other boys rolled their eyes at Hermione's little 'rebellion'.

"It's fine. We'll blow up that bridge when we come to it," he said. "Now three important things that you have to always keep in mind when it comes to flying. A happy thought. Movement in three dimensions, not two. And acceleration does not always equal speed."

They all stared at him blankly.

He grinned and began again. "Let's start with the first one. Like in those books about the boys that fly off with fairies to some unreachable land? Same idea, different principle. In those books, the happy thought actually enabled them to fly. In this case, its just to keep you in the air. If you're weighed down with thinking about fear or what comes next or even the test next week, then your energy isn't flowing smoothly and thus becomes erratic and thus stable flight is made all but impossible. Whereas if you're happy, then you're relaxed, your energy flows and is more easily controlled and the whole thing becomes very carefree. With more training and practice, it gets easier. Eventually, as it did with me and my brother, flying will become second nature, the same as walking, and at that point, that's when you can get started training to go faster and perform more complex maneuvers and even fight in mid-air."

"Second thing," he said as he lifted off from the ground, still in cross-legged position, "Movement in three dimensions. It's fairly obvious, but given the trouble some people had with other basic concepts I've tried to get across, I feel the need to actually say this." He was now hovering in the air above them, his legs folded neatly before him and staying in place as though he were still resting on the ground. Suddenly he inverted himself, and was looking at them upside down.

"Madam Hooch can probably help you all in any particulars with this aspect, as it's the same regardless whether you're flying via ki, magic, or a machine like an airplane or Capsule-car. You have to be able to deal with more than just what is in front of and behind you," as he said the words he suddenly shot towards and away from them, "or what's to your left and right," again he moved, inverted, from side-to-side in front of them, "but also what is above and below you!" The time he shot up about ten or twenty feet before falling back down and landing precisely where he'd started from, right side up.

"Just something to keep in mind is all. Now for the last bit, acceleration is not always speed... Hermione, how fast are we moving right now?" he asked her suddenly.

"Sorry? What are you talking about Harry? We're just sitting here, we're not moving at all!" she exclaimed.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," he admonished. "I would have expected that answer from Ron, or even Malfoy's two goons. The Earth rotates and revolves around the sun, Hermione, which is in turn rotating and revolving around the center of the Galaxy, which is moving to its own rhythm through the cosmos. How fast are we moving right now?"

"Oh! Well, let me think for a bit here," she mumbled. "Well, we're in Scotland now, that puts us thereabouts of 56 degrees North... the radius of the Earth is 3963 miles... add in the circumference of our positioning... divide by twenty-four for the day... which means we're currently traveling at about 775 miles per hour based solely on the rotation of the planet. Give or take."

"Give or take," Harry agreed.

"My point in asking you that is... do you feel like you're going anywhere? Like you are actually going seven hundred and seventy-five miles per hour?" They all shook their heads. "Speed is relative. Acceleration is what most people are talking about when they talk about speed. When it comes to flying, however, just because you feel like you are going faster, that doesn't necessarily mean that you are. From that you can also gather a few general facts. Fact number one, you've grown up walking and living on the ground. The human race evolved living on the ground. Our instincts don't account for flight, so you may feel like you're falling at some points, or like you're going up, when actually the opposite is true. I tell you all this as a precaution."

"So... this is really dangerous?" Hermione asked.

"Of course," Harry shrugged. "So is everything I've shown you so far. But by being aware of the dangers, you can prepare for them, making it less dangerous."

"Basically, to fly, all you have to do is take control of your energy and then you sort of put it underneath you and then your energy holds you up," he finally told them. "The particulars and specifics are mostly just scientific and spiritual hoo-hah anyway."

Again, they all just stared at him, blinking. Then, putting her thinking cap to work, Hermione asked him, "So what you're saying is that it's like thrust?"

"Partly," he answered. "That's just to get you moving. You have to actually get aloft for that first. Let me think here... Oh! I'll say it another way. To go up, you push your energy down and then you'll sort of just ride the wave. Believe it or not, it's more natural than it sounds. This is ki we're talking about after all. OK, there's nothing more I can tell you that wouldn't just be repeating all my warnings and advice, so I'll let you lot start practicing. Don't forget to control your energy. Oh, right, OK, uh, get practicing and I'll make sure you have nothing to worry about."

They all nodded and got to their feet.

Draco, meanwhile, snuck away and went to the other side of the field where nobody could see him at all. He'd been practicing and exercising with Pansy and the older Slytherins that were still in Harry's training group daily. In doing so, he had discovered that he was even more out of shape that he'd first suspected and was indeed one of the 'weaklings' that needed to build up ki first. Therefore he'd been running ten laps around the lake three times a day, and up and down and _around_ the mountains on the other side of Hogwarts from where Harry had the original groups climbing and running. He went up the face, then down the other side and then back to Hogwarts by going around the base on the only path that allowed access back to the castle from the back side of the mountain.

Running the mountain, initially, took him practically the whole free period between classes and dinner, but now he could do it inside of two hours, though only barely. Some days he still went over by a few minutes. He also spent the evenings in the Common Room meditating on finding and channeling his ki, with the help of Pansy and the other trained Slytherins. With most of them, he paid them in coin, with some he paid them in treats, and with the smart ones he paid them in promised favors that he always made sure to make good on as soon as possible.

It had been twelve days since he started training, and he still had yet to even get a spark between his hands, let alone find the center of his ki and channel it properly. He was still some time away from even trying to fly. But now he had the lesson, he knew the _how_ as it was taught. With it, he could barter some more help in his own training.

He no longer wanted just Son's secrets and power, he wanted to beat the brat at his own game! He wanted, no he _needed_ to learn how to fight the way Son and his family fought, with their fists and feet and especially the energy blasts. And for that, he'd need other kinds of training. He needed to learn how to fight.

Harry observed the two flight training practices from a distance. The larger one, being supervised by three adult teachers supported by the only medical healer within the entire region, and then the smaller one of four First Years just out of sight of said teachers and healer. He could tell that none of the four would by flying any time soon. Certainly not today. They may be able to channel their ki and develop the experience at pushing their ki from their body, but absolutely none of them had the level of energy in sufficient quantity to levitate, let alone completely overpower the planet's own ki field and gravitational pull.

That's where most people got confused, Harry mused to himself. They thought it was just pushing against the Earth's gravitational pull and then providing further thrust to fly through the air. When it came to flying with ki, you were pushing against more than just gravity, you were overpowering the planet's very grip on you by exerting your power over its. That was also the reason for all the special effects when someone did a rapid power-up. The floating rocks, the bolts of lightning, earthquakes, wind and storms and all of that. That was not just a single person's power unleashing psychokinetic frenzy on the environment, that was the life force of the planet, of the whole universe, pushing back just as hard as that person's power was pushing against it!

Harry figured it out when he saw his Dad and the mysterious Super Saiyan stranger transform and power up _without_ all the psychokinetic special effects. A Super Saiyan, he _knew_ , was so strong that the amount of power held inside a single body was mind-boggling. A _yellow star_ in the prime of its lifespan gave off as much energy in the first years of its existence as what a Super Saiyan gave off just by transforming in the first place. He knew, he'd done the math.

He was surprised that he seemed to be the only one to understand that out of the whole group, but on the one hand he was also the only one whose primary power and specialness was based on magic rather than pure martial arts. Sure, they all knew that Goku and the stranger gave off a _lot_ of power, but none of them had made the comparison like he had. They knew it was a lot of power, but none of them, not even Vegeta seemed to realize that just by transforming, Goku and the stranger should have powered up enough to _literally_ rip the planet in half! Or at least ripped away enough rocks and earth to strip away all of the crust where they were standing, to say nothing of the atmosphere on the surface. But they didn't. They just flashed the golden light of theirs, their hair turned blond, their eyes blue, and then there was their power. Just like that.

No powering up. No pushing against the energy of the planet to make room for theirs. No psychokinetic effects as there was a tug of war (or perhaps it would be better called _push_ of war) between their energy fields and the rest of the universe.

In the brief stint of training he, Gohan, Goku and Piccolo had done between Goku returning and Harry getting his Hogwarts letter, he'd done a lot of thinking about that. It was part of the reason why he was so interested in learning a proper transformation of his own from Professor McGonagall. The other part of that reason was that he knew Gohan, being half-Saiyan, had a more than likely chance of becoming a Super Saiyan one day as well, perhaps sooner rather than later. But he was getting away from the point. Which was that the trouble with 'powering up' and it taking so long for some people, was the ambient energy fields of the planet, other people, stars, plants, animals, and even space itself, _ALL_ of that is constantly pushing down and against you and in order to 'power up' and unleash just that little bit more of your strength, you had to push back against all that ambient energy with your own.

Flying was pushing against that ambient energy, just slowly instead of quickly like with a power-up.

None of his (magical) peers that he'd been training had enough power to even match the raw power of their surroundings, let alone push against it enough for them to succeed in breaking away from gravity's hold. Still, he considered as he looked around at the valley they occupied, he'd never felt so much... _life_ before, except maybe at Kami's Lookout. So while it's probable that a handful of them might have enough energy to try flying anywhere else but here, Harry wasn't about to share that with any of them. No, instead he decided he'd wasted enough of his day already.

He snuck back into the castle through an open balcony on the seventh floor and made his way to his secret training room and spent the rest of the afternoon doing his own training. Before doing that though, he'd made use of Piccolo's trick of splitting himself in two. It took him most of the three weeks he'd been here to finally figure enough of it out that he could perform it at all. Sure, it cut his power down by half, for each body, but it doubled his training time and in circumstances such as these, let him be in two places at once. So one was training his energy sensing abilities and making sure his friends didn't accidentally kill themselves, and was seen by the teachers and all that, while the other got a decent workout and tried out a few different moves in the gym.

All in all, a productive day.

END "Episode 6: Hogwarts Rewards"

(AN: I know, bit of a filler chapter. Some recent Reviews and comments have further prompted me to explain some things about my story here. First of all, whatever... "canon" says about Gohan's age at this point in the timeline, for * _this_ * story, he and Harry have just turned 11, and it is now a few months after Goku returned from space and got the warning from Mirai-Trunks about the Androids, and it is currently 3 years (less than that by this point in the story) until Androids 19 and 20 show up. At which point they will be 13-going-on-14.

Second, rapid progression of Hogwarts students in ki-training; I am basing this LARGELY off of the episode(s) where teenage Gohan was training Videl in how to fly. She was already pretty fit and a trained martial artist, it was clear, so in this story Harry would've sorted her into 'Group 1' and started her meditating and trying to generate ki, same way Gohan had her doing it. Thing is, episodes aren't too clear on how long that took exactly, only that it took more than a few days, but less than the month they had before the Tournament. Furthermore in that regard, I direct everyone's attention to the first Harry Potter Book, specifically the passage about Neville being tossed out a window and "bouncing" down the hill. It is largely accepted that, when they work at it, wizards develop at a phenomenal rate compared to muggles. Now that he has them physically training and learning to channel their ki, for the remainder of this story, all the young wizards and witches will appear to make a rather rapid increase in power. This does not mean that at the end of the year Draco can wipe out the school with a Kamehameha, or Ron could win in a fist-fight against Krillin or even Yamcha. * _ALL_ * that it means is that these young people have learned how to channel their ki and can do so without being muscleheads or killing themselves, that they can fire energy blasts, can fly, and move faster and is stronger than anyone that does not know how to channel their ki. Unless they specifically train to fight, and dedicate a large amount of time and energy to it, all they'll be capable of is some neat low-level tricks.

Final thing, Harry's power level. I _want_ to say that he's near Gohan's level, but being realistic here all I can say is that he 'casually' utilizes the same level of strength and power that ' _Not_ -Pissed-Off-Enraged' Gohan shows in the episodes between the end of the Namek saga and the beginning of the Android Arc. His skill level is the same, and in some areas better than Gohan's, but Gohan has him beat in stamina and raw power by a wide margin. If I don't get too bogged down with RL, and can keep at the writing, I'm hoping to reveal something that will level the playing field between them by the end of the story. And please, don't hesitate to ask questions and make suggestions. Though I've pre-written up to Chapter 14 by the posting of this chapter, I have a lot more planned, and sometimes the writing just ain't happening, y'know? Thanks For Reading, Hope You Enjoy, and Please Review!)


	7. Hogwarts Lessons

Episode 7: "Hogwarts Lessons"

In the final week of September, or rather to be more specific on the final _weekend_ of September, Harry was overseeing the training of the few who remained that were still having trouble with the basics. Mostly that was just Ron though.

"Come on Ron, move faster!" he called to his friend. Currently he was helping Ron with running up and down the mountains outside Hogwarts. Unlike most of the other trainees, Ron found himself capable of completing all the numerous exercises Harry had set up for them _without_ raising his power level enough to make a difference.

Whether that meant that Ron was slow at generating ki, or he was just _that far behind_ everybody else when it came to available life force, Harry didn't care to guess. What he did care to do was build up his friends power level to the point where he could actually perform with his peers. Heck, Neville and Hermione and Justin all had passed the point where they were beginning to work with creating stable energy blasts and also augment their strength, speed, and other physical abilities.

Meanwhile, Ron was still running the lake and climbing mountains. He was up to three (mountains) a day now. Except it was the weekend, so they were now running up their fifth (mountain). Well, Ron was running it, Harry was floating along providing encouragement.

"H-how... am... I... s-sup...posed... to do... that...?!" Ron gasped between steps as he ran up the small incline. Only about thirty to forty degrees.

"For one, stop gasping and wasting your breath like that," he advised. "I know it hurts, believe me I do in fact know. But you have to take deep, filling breaths, hold them for one to two seconds and then let them go through the mouth. In through the nose, out through the mouth. You're going to probably feel like you're not getting enough air for a bit, but it'll pass. Just keep breathing, in through the nose, out through the mouth, deep filling breaths."

"How do you do this?" Ron asked in a rush as he exhaled. Harry could see him fighting the instinct to breathe short, shallow and as quickly as possible. But he was fighting it. That was good.

"Training," Harry answered, easily keeping pace beside his friend. He wasn't even sweating. "I regularly do double, sometimes even triple the amount of work you're doing at a hundred times the pace, in conditions that are a lot worse that some high elevation and cold mountain air. You think you have trouble breathing now? Try it in a hundred Gs in temperatures hot enough to boil the sweat off your body, in humidity so thick that you could probably drink the air itself. Only did it for a couple days though, and I only survived in the first place thanks to my magic. After that we did keep it as cool as we could and the humidity as low as was possible in an artificial environment. After surviving I don't know how long under one hundred times normal gravity, stuff like this really doesn't bother me. At all. In fact this doesn't even count as a warm-up for me."

"What... do you do to warm up?" Ron asked, still visibly struggling to control his breathing, but as a result his running had improved some. For one, his hands weren't shaking and his footing was sure.

"Oh, I still do running, and stretching and some basic calisthenics," he answered. "I just do it with heavy weights and like I said at a hundred times this pace. Deeper breaths, Ron."

He'd started panting again, apparently losing his concentration. Now that he thought about it, that did seem to be Ron's biggest weakness. He really couldn't concentrate on anything he termed 'boring' for longer than a few minutes. And very early on he had indeed marked meditating and breathing exercises as boring. Very boring in fact, which made his commitment to the training all the more surprising, to Harry, to others, and perhaps most of all to Ron himself.

There had to be something that he could do to help Ron in bringing forth his ki, Harry thought as they continued up the mountain, across a small brook of melt water.

' _But what?_ ' he asked himself silently.

By this point, they'd reached the peak of the mountain, or rather the highest point that wasn't just a bit of rock. Just as they reached the cliff, Ron collapsed to the ground, perilously close the cliff, but he didn't look like he was going to roll off it any time soon. Looking down at his friend laying there, exhausted, his chest fully inhaling and exhaling with each breath, a thought occurred to him.

Reaching out, Harry charged a small spark of ki at his fingertip and held it to the young wizard's forehead. The moment the spark touched his skin, Ron's eyes snapped open.

"Whoa...!" he breathed, almost forgetting to inhale.

"Feel that?" Harry asked.

"Y-yeah..." he answered, eyes still wide and not blinking. He couldn't describe what he was feeling, not in words. Something, _energy_ , had entered him and he could _feel it_ racing throughout his body. And everywhere that... that energy went, something was left behind. Something... _awoke_ inside him. It had been there all along, he just hadn't recognized it.

It felt like... it felt like _power_!

Sitting up, his breathing under better control, Ron brought his hands together and focused on the meditations he'd been learning for the past month. Before, they had never made any sense, he couldn't even imagine what they were telling him even when they had dumbed it down as much as possible. But now...

Ron stared at the space between his hands, feeling the _power_ , the _energy_ racing through his body. And what's more, as easily as he did with magic when holding his wand, he _focused_ that energy to the point between his hands and channeled it through his body to his hand where...

"Nice Ron, very nice," Harry said, a smile on his face.

There, between his hands, an orange-red spark of light began to glow. Focusing more of his power, the glow became brighter and a small marble-sized ball of energy began to shine. Ron just stared at it, hypnotized. After so much effort, so much work... it was worth all of that for this one moment he realized.

Exhaustion snuck up on him and the light disappeared as the energy supporting it was cut off. Moments after that, Ron fainted, falling forward, and almost off the cliff if not for Harry catching him and dragging him back a bit. He patted the redhead on the back and let him sit up on his own.

"That was great Ron! You finally did it! You found your ki! I must say, I am impressed!" said Harry.

"Wow, thanks Harry!" said Ron, smiling enthusiastically. "But... can I keep doing it?"

"Doesn't work like that, mate," Harry told him. "Can you hold a marble in front of your eye forever? Can you hold up a heavy weight forever? Can you hold a pose forever? You're not supposed to create a tiny spark like that, or even a huge ball and have it stay around for the rest of your life. When I shoot energy blasts, I'm not focusing on creating it, and then forcing it to move every micrometer through open space until it ignites. No, I just channel the energy and let it fly, same way that you would throw the marble, or lift and drop the weight, or move through the pose into the actual motion you were doing in the first place. It is all just energy anyway, this just happens to be a new way of applying it. Trust me Ron, you're off to a fantastic start!"

"Thanks! So, uh, what's next?" he asked, nervous. "It took me almost a month just to get this far. Everybody else had it by the middle of the second week!"

"Hm," Harry considered, leaning back as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I think, and feel free to disagree with me here, but I think the reason that you had so much trouble is that you aren't really the meditating sort. I think you're more of a doer than a thinker like Hermione and the others. So... the way I left it with everybody else was that I explained the basics of what one can do with ki once they learn how to properly channel it."

Harry got to his feet and started pacing. "Now I could do that with you, basically talk about all the cool things that you can do if you just work at it, but like you're guessing that would probably take you a few years to even start working on the basic tricks. Or..."

"Or! I like or! Let's do or!" Ron exclaimed, his eyes wide with panic at the thought of it taking years!

"...Or we can try something fast, messy, and dangerous. More dangerous than anything you've ever faced before. Dangerous enough that if you aren't extremely careful, Ron, you could die. I could kill you. By accident of course, but still." Harry stared down at his friend, trying to convey the seriousness of what he was proposing.

"Harry, please, there's no way I'll be able to ever figure this stuff out on my own! I need your help! PLEASE!" Ron begged.

Arms crossed, Harry considered his options, finally coming to a single conclusion and hoping for the best. He exhaled sharply though his nose, not quite a snort, but more than a sigh. "Fine," he said.

"YES!" Ron crowed, getting to his feet, arms raised.

"Run," Harry said.

"Whuh?" Ron stopped mid-celebration.

Harry pointed to the largest peak in the area. "Run. To there. As fast as you possibly can run. Use your ki. Don't try and make energy blasts, just focus on it and _run_!" He then held out his right hand and charged enough energy to make it shine with yellow-red light. "I'm going to be firing energy blasts at you and around you. You won't know which, but I'll try to make sure I only fire them at you when I'm sure you're going to dodge. OK?"

"Wait, are you being serious right now?" Ron was still holding up his hands, but this time with fear.

"Ron? Run."

An energy blast, an extremely small one, was shot at his feet. There was a pressure wave, a flash of light and some smoke, but nothing more. It was enough to get Ron running though.

"How is this helping?!" Ron screamed as he ran/fell/slid downhill.

Harry replied with a larger energy blast to the boy's right. He cowered from the explosion, but kept running, though now heading more towards the left. Harry shot another blast, this time to his left, straightening him out a bit.

"Focus on your energy! You were feeling it before!" he called out. "It's still there. Just remember how it felt! Don't do anything with it, just _feel it_! And let your instincts take it from there!"

"WHAT INSTINCTS?!" Ron screamed, running flat out. At almost three times the speed he'd been running before he'd exhausted himself. Harry smirked and shot his next blast, lower than the last two, right at the wizard's backside.

Ron felt every hair on the back of his neck go stiff and he knew he was being targeted. He could not begin to say how he knew, but he _knew_! He dove and rolled to the left, narrowly avoiding the energy blast that was little more than that first one that was nothing but light and smoke. But it told Ron just how serious this new level of training truly was.

The only thing going through his head right then was Harry's advice, to hold on to that feeling of power, of energy flowing through his body. And he was doing his absolute best to follow that advice. Such as it was, he was succeeding. By focusing on his ki, and by feeling it flow through his body, that was all the conscious trigger that was needed to bring forth his power. The rest was done by his body responding to what his mind demanded of it. His mind said he needed to run, his body, augmented by his ki, made him run faster than he'd ever run before in his life. There was more to it though, and Harry decided that he was going to show his friend, rather than bore them both by just telling him.

They were coming up to a stream flowing down the mountain, little more than water running through a channel of dirt and wet rocks. Harry shot another ki blast off to one side, the explosion directed Ron towards the stream. The next few blasts were closer, pushing Ron closer to the wet rocks and the stream, but he was trying to stay on the more stable soil as much as possible while running. Then, just to change things up, he shot three blasts right in front of him, the first the furthest and then moving closer, leaving Ron with no where to go but across the stream. Unfortunate for Ron, the point where Harry chose to spring this little trap was pretty much nothing but sharp rocks with at least an inch or more of water running over them. Given a few more years, they'd probably be smoothed away to rounded stones, but for today they made it all but impossible for a normal human to cross.

Harry targeted Ron directly this time, taking his time in charging the energy, making sure Ron would feel it and feel himself being targeted. Looking around frantically, Harry saw him start to panic, looking for a way out. Harry unleashed the energy blast. Ron jumped across the stream, no other choice open to him.

He cleared five maybe seven feet in height, and the distance was more than enough to get him across to the other side. Smiling, Harry flew ahead a bit faster, seeing what else he could show Ron how to do.

For the rest of the afternoon, Harry chased his friend all over the mountains of the valley surrounding Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. By directing Ron with well-placed explosions here and there, he got the lazy redhead to perform feats of athleticism and sheer physical prowess that not even wizards with all their magical powers could imagine, let alone duplicate!

In addition to running real fast and jumping real good, he also showed him how to land safely from a great height, how to climb fast aka run up walls, how to catch and throw boulders that were bigger around than he was tall, how to walk—er run on water, and a dozen other little things that may not have been impossible but would certainly be more difficult, and slower, to do without ki. Perhaps the most important thing that Harry had shown Ron how to do—well he'd shown him entirely by mistake, and it certainly wasn't the only mistake he'd made during their run through the mountains, but it was perhaps the one that stood out the most because it could have had lethal consequences if it hadn't worked out the way that it had—was how to _flash-step_.

They were on a sharp incline, ascending. Harry, hoping to get Ron to figure out how to use his energy to better dodge, other than just moving before he attacked, charged a large energy attack and fired it before the boy wizard would have the full amount of time needed to properly dodge. At least based on the past few other attacks he'd used and spent some time charging up and focusing on him before firing. This time he fired it in less than a second. It wasn't until it had left his hand that he realized, while it would not strike Ron head-on, it was still too powerful. The explosion it would cause, though not on his body, would be close enough to seriously injure him. Like standing off to one side of where a claymore is facing, but still in the 'enemy' direction.

"Ron! Look out!" he cried, terrified at what he'd just done. He knew from experience that he wasn't fast enough to outrace his own energy blast, at least not this one, and it would be even more dangerous to try and blow it up mid-air with another one. He raced after it anyway, hoping for the best after warning his friend.

On Ron's part, he'd felt that same tingle at the back of his neck that had always thus far been the primary indicator of Harry firing another ki blast. Except that it was more than just a tingle this time. He had no comparison for it, but it felt like something hot was bearing down on him and was going to explode or something, if not on him than near enough to hurt. Not that any actual thoughts went through his head. Even afterward, analyzing every second of events, perhaps even years after today, he could not properly segment his thoughts and emotions from his actions. Or perhaps it's better to phrase them as reactions.

All Ron knew, both during and after, he felt Harry fire, heard Harry shout, and then knew that he had to dodge to the left. He also knew, after, that he couldn't make his body move fast enough, even though he was already using his right leg to push sideways along the ground rather than continue with his forward momentum, it was not enough and it wouldn't be enough. Knowing in his gut that he had to get out of the way, he did the only thing he could do at the moment, and so while he was channeling his energy into his body, he wished as hard as he could for his body to go to the left and his energy responded. Part of it 'pushed' against the ground where his foot was already pushing sideways, but the bulk of it, that suddenly and immediately cast itself to his left, creating momentum and force through sheer energy manipulation.

The end result, when the explosion hit, the only thing within range of it was an after-image.

After the dust settled, Harry saw Ron running away to the left. It took him a few moments to realize what had happened. Just to test it out, he tried the same trick himself. From where he floated above the smoking crater, Harry vanished, flashing away in a movement so fast no untrained eye would be able to discern it. At the same speed, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, he reappeared right in Ron's path, less than a few feet in front of him.

"Ahh!" Ron screamed, willing his energy to take him to the right this time, without consciously being aware of it of course. Same as before, the only thing left of him was a hazy after-image that would fool all but the best trained fighters. Harry smirked and continued the chase.

There were a few other close calls, but that one definitely stood out the most in Harry's mind. The hard part, he knew, was going to be training Ron in how to _consciously_ control these skills that he was turning out entirely by accident and on pure instinct. But that was for later.

Nearing the late afternoon/early evening part of the day, Harry finally stopped Ron from running and let him cool down for a bit, at the peak of the northernmost mountain in the valley. Technically speaking, they were somewhere within the bounds of the Forbidden Forest, at least if they were to go straight back to the school, but the mountains sort of circumnavigate the Forest. Besides, the Forest, like everything else in the Valley that is not within the limits of the village of Hogsmeade, all of it is still on the school grounds, despite the castle proper being the only part that was properly warded. Legal claims and all that. Harry had checked, it was in _Hogwarts, A History_.

"So, ready to learn how to fly?" Harry asked once he saw that Ron had gotten his breath back.

"I'm almost afraid to ask," the redhead groaned.

"You still remember what I told you about it?" he clarified.

"Yeah, one time I've actually listened to a lecture. Helped that it was about something I wanted to know about anyway," Ron acknowledged. Then, without being prompted, "Way you described it, I use my energy to push down and then it sort of pushes me back up and I just ride the wave of energy as it lifts me up. To move in any direction, I just provide thrust, pushing the energy against the opposite direction of where I'm wanting to go."

"Close enough," said Harry. "How's your energy levels?"

"I... I'm not really sure," he admitted, blushing with embarrassment. "It feels... dimmer, slower than it was when we first started, but also like it's getting brighter the longer I rest. I kinda figured out that the more I did those impossible moves, jumping and dodging real fast, all that. Well, that made it go down, like... like when I actually get stuffed eating, I can feel how little room I have left. Only I guess it's sort of the opposite here. I'm still about uh, half-full if you pardon the expression."

"Good, should be enough," Harry nodded. "Got a pretty good gauge of your power level by now. You're not going to be shooting energy blasts all over the place, but you've finally got plenty of ki to handle actual flight. So, ready to try flying back to the castle?"

"What? Are you serious? No way am I ready for that! Harry, I'm the dead last in the class, or group, or whatever it is you want to call it! I am not ready!" Ron protested.

"Ron," Harry laughed, taking his friend by the shoulders. "More than half of what you just finished doing, not one single person has been able to do _all of it_ , and most certainly not continuously like what you've done today. And to top it all off, you say you still have more than half your energy left!"

He started walking the boy along, looking him in the eye the whole time.

"Ron, remember the other part of what I told you about flying? Keep a happy thought in your head. Negative thoughts interrupt your ki flow and that would pretty much mean you drop like a stone. So I want you to remember one thing and one thing only while you're flying back to the castle."

"Wh-what is that?"

"That you can finally do things that none of your brothers can do," Harry told him. "Or did you really not notice that both Fred and George _and_ Percy are part of the group and they haven't even been able to augment their speed or strength yet in general training, let alone everything else that you just did. And after today, you will be able to fly, while they still have to use brooms."

Ron's face lit up.

Then Harry threw him off the cliff they were standing next to.

Ron was still smiling for the first three feet that he fell. Unfortunately he hadn't just been shoved over the edge, but actually thrown a good dozen yards into open air, so there was absolutely nothing to grab hold of. After the first three feet, which equated to the amount of time it took his brain to even begin to comprehend what had just happened, fear and the fight-or-flight responses started to kick in. Another five feet after that, he started to scream, even as his mind hyper-rationalized what it was he needed to be doing. The screaming wouldn't stop though, and the fear was clouding his mind.

"Happy thoughts, Ron," Harry said as he passed him by, a white flaming aura around him, shooting down at four times the speed Ron was falling. "Happy thoughts!"

"Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts!" Ron chanted, eyes shut tight.

' _Quidditch! Chudley Cannons winning the World Cup! Making Head Boy! Winning the House Cup! The look on—on, heh, on, hahaha, on my brothers faces when they see me!_ ' Ron thought desperately, not actually believing any of it until the final thought there.

After imagining the images of Percy, Fred, George, and even Bill and Charlie's faces when they saw him flying through the air without a broom, well that changed everything. He finally relaxed and opened his eyes, the smile back on his face. Looking around him, he saw practically the whole valley laid out before him. There were trees below him, rushing up at him, but they may as well have been a green carpet. His energy responded to his will like he'd been doing it for years. Less than twenty feet from the forest floor, within the treetops themselves even, he began to slow. By the time he hit ten feet, he may as well have been a feather falling gracefully in the wind. Before the tips of his toes had reached the point of his own height from the forest floor, however, a similar white aura exploded around Ron's body as he concentrated harder than he ever had before.

Ki flame flaring wildly, Ron stayed there, hovering, the force of his own energy making his clothes and hair flutter like a wind was blowing out from his center. His fists were clenched tight at his sides and his feet were arched, pointing downward. His face was a mask of intense concentration. Despite his happy and confident thoughts, it was a lot harder than he'd thought. Then he stopped pushing so much energy towards just staying aloft and followed Harry's advice and just rode the wave of energy he was putting out.

At that point, the white flaming aura disappeared, but he stayed precisely where he was in the air, not moving so much as an inch.

"Whoa!" he couldn't help exclaiming aloud.

"Not bad, Ron, not bad at all," Harry called from above the treetops.

Looking up, Ron could see him 'standing' there above him. Wanting to join his friend there, he started considering ways of increasing his altitude, and then realized he already knew how. Without having to reignite his ki flame, Ron slowly raised himself in the air to above the treetops. He couldn't even begin to explain it himself, but in thinking things over, he realized that he somehow had these instincts of what to do with his energy. And flying just seemed to be one more thing to do with said energy. It was as natural to him as it was walking, running, or climbing a tree. Or using magic!

"This is... wow, Harry!" he said once he was at the same altitude as the dark-haired fighter. "Thanks for showing me how to do this!"

"Oh, your training for the day isn't done yet," said Harry, a challenging smirk on his face. "Now you have to get back to the castle. I've got some training of my own to do, so I'll see you at dinner tonight. Good luck, mate!"

With that said, he rose up about another ten feet and then ignited his own ki flame and shot back towards the school, just under Mach 1.

"W-wait! H-Harry! Hey!" Ron called after him, starting to wobble in the air as his ki energy became unstable, fear and anxiety rising within him.

Unfortunately, it was too little, too late. Ron knew that even if Harry could have heard him, it was unlikely that he'd come back for him, especially after giving him the next hurdle he'd have to overcome in his training. Resolving himself, Ron took a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh. He then angled himself parallel to the ground and started flying back toward Hogwarts. It was slow going, and despite hanging onto his 'happy thought' his ki energy kept destabilizing at various points, making it hard to stay aloft, but he always managed to get a handle on it. Nevertheless, he did try and make sure that he stayed at a high enough altitude that he could 'catch himself' if he did start to fall for real.

Meanwhile, back at Hogwarts, Harry quickly sought out and found his other friends; Hermione, Justin and Neville specifically.

"Hey guys!" he called, landing beside them where they were sat meditating. Well, Hermione was meditating, Justin and Neville were silently competing to see who could do the most push-ups it would appear. To the surprise of all, once he got out of his shell, Neville was a real exercise nut.

"Hullo Harry," they all replied without stopping what they were doing.

"So, anybody figure out how to fly yet?" he asked, sitting down beside Hermione.

"No!" they all answered at the same time, equally frustrated.

"Ron has," he told them, struggling to contain the smile on his face.

Hermione's eyes snapped open so she could glare at him. Justin and Neville already had their eyes open, so there was no delay in their glares. Harry just grinned and folded his hands behind his head, leaning against the stone column behind him.

"You said that you were going to _give him a few POINTERS_!" Hermione screamed in his face. " _NOT_ give him one-on-one training to put him weeks ahead of the rest of us!"

"I didn't put him weeks ahead of you," he corrected her, smirk firmly planted on his face. "He was, in fact, weeks behind the rest of you. I spent a few hours _catching him up_ to the rest of you. Not my fault if you took my warnings about taking it slow and careful as instructions to stop trying."

"Fine!" she screamed, throwing her hands up in the air, getting to her feet. "Fine! Then what am I missing, huh? What tiny little nugget of a clue have I overlooked that you could teach Ron— _RON!—_ in an afternoon that I could not figure out for myself in a weeks time? Tell me that, if you so please!"

"Have you tried just powering up and following my advice?" he asked with a shrug.

They all blinked at him, a bit stunned at the simple and straight-forward retort. Justin and Neville both got to their feet beside Hermione. They all exchanged looks, expressing their disbelief, confusion and other emotions non-verbally amongst themselves. Then they moved a small distance apart and started concentrating, the boys unconsciously clenching their fists, while Hermione merely flexed the digits of her own.

Within moments, Harry felt all three tap into their power and bring forth their energy. As he watched, their hair and clothes started to move as though some unfelt wind was coming out of them in a rush of energy. Perhaps just as surprising as her power level, was the fact that when she _really_ powered up, Hermione's bushy hair, normally wild and untameable, actually straightened out and began to flow like some kind of teen actress's wavy styled locks being blown about by a fan.

Less than a minute after powering up, each of them were hovering more than an inch off the ground. Albeit, not much more than that. Harry couldn't help it, he laughed.

"Do you mind!" Hermione snapped at him. "I'm trying to concentrate here!"

"Sorry, sorry," he apologized. "It's just that Ron started higher off the ground and he was able to fly off immediately. Although, I suppose it had something to do with me throwing him off the cliff..."

All three stared at him, incredulous. Then they glanced at each other when they realized that he _wasn't_ making a joke and in fact was being entirely serious about it. Justin and Neville then clenched their fists tighter, the muscles of their arms bulking out as they struggled to bring out more power, not that said muscles were all that impressive compared to Harry's. Hermione, however, took a deeper breath and the flowing locks of hair started waving about even more wildly. Slowly at first, all three began to rise into the air. When they were about ten feet however, something changed.

Hermione's face suddenly relaxed and at the same moment she shot into the air like a rocket. She turned and arched toward the nearest tower and flew around it in a corkscrew, going faster with each passing second. When she reached the top of the tower, she shot over to the next highest one and began to corkscrew up it, still accelerating. When she reached the highest point of the castle, she began to climb, going high into the sky, above the clouds—well, some of them. From there, though she looked like a tiny black dot to those on the ground, she began to cartwheel and flip and do all manner of tricks in the air. Harry smiled and leaned back against the stone pillar once more.

Neville and Justin, however, seeing Hermione suddenly 'get it' shared another look. One of competitiveness actually. Both boys powered up as much as they could, each manifesting a mostly clear, almost white ki flame in the process. They also immediately shot into the air uncontrollably and began zipping about like flies on a sugar high. Harry ignored them, closing his eyes for a bit.

Only to have them snap open as something very unexpected came across his senses.

On the other side of the school grounds, some of the Sixth Years that he'd trained along with everyone else were powering up and slowly taking flight. Across the lake, a number of those he'd trained that were in Slytherin were also powering up, but more impressive was that he also sensed the rising powers of practically the entire First Year Slytherin class. Good to see that Draco was finally doing some real training, but as impressive as all of that was, like fireworks of different and unique colors going off, that wasn't what got him to his feet.

Like any sense, energy sensing was unique and could not be explained to those that did not have the same sense. The best one could do would be stretches of metaphor and imaginings, alluding to the other senses shared. For example, the firework metaphor is actually a combination of sight and sound sensory input, as fireworks are both colorful and loud and distinctive and also easy to imagine. Going with that same metaphor, at all times of day and night, since he was four, almost five years old, and learning from Piccolo and Gohan about energy, Harry has been able to sense it all around him without end. It wasn't unnatural or forced, like stories of telepathy and other 'extra senses'. If anything, it was like being taught to read and listen in a different language. The sense was always there, he just didn't know how to interpret it until taught. The same was true of everyone really.

Of course, now he did know. And so, at all times of day and night, Harry is constantly sensing energy all around him, the same way that he's always feeling the air and temperature and hearing everything within the human auditory range and smelling and tasting the air with every breath. Therefore, same as with tracking something with the eyes or by sound, he can focus on familiar and distinctive energy patterns around him. The various students around the school powering up, while impressive firework displays, is not the kind of thing that he would notice beyond much of a slight shift in attention, a raised eyebrow or a tilting of the head. This... this was a bolt of lightning as wide across as the sun in the sky, shooting across said sky, but instead of instantly dissipating, it just hung there, and the thunder was constant and getting steadily louder the longer it went on.

The major problem though was that Harry actually had no idea who, or what was causing it. Looking for it wasn't doing him much good unfortunately. He tried focusing, trying to determine the source at the very least, but it was so... intense that it was all but impossible.

After a couple minutes, with no fluctuation or movement, it suddenly disappeared. Not fading, like it was going out of his range, more like it had abruptly cut off with no natural dissipation. Even light switches held a brief, fading residual charge that he could sense. The only reason that he could fathom was some kind of magic that blocked sensing abilities.

He settled back against the pillar, but his eyes stayed open this time. He would keep an 'eye' out, but seeing that there was no trace of the unusual energy, and how thoroughly he _hadn't_ sensed it before now, he had no doubt that he wouldn't be sensing it again until whatever magic protections that were on it were taken down again.

 _Evening, After Dinner_

 _Hogwarts Grand Staircase_

By the end of the day, everyone that had learned how to use ki had learned how to fly. Some better than others, those others barely managing to hover and slow low level flights on par with Madam Hooch's flying lessons, but regardless, by learning to fly, Harry acknowledged that he had completely taught them all the 'basics' as he'd said he would, and so he decided to keep his promise to Dumbledore and would no longer be training anybody. After all, Ron had been the 'dead last' when it came to the training, so having Ron make it back to the castle under his own power was the cut off point for the son of Goku.

Even if he'd only made it back just a few minutes before the end of dinner. Thankfully the kitchens were always willing to provide decent meals, even long after meal time officially ended, so Ron got an opportunity to replace the energy he'd exerted the whole day through.

"So, you finally caught up with the rest of us, eh mate?" Justin teased Ron as he handed him another platter of food. They were the last ones in the Great Hall, save for one or two that were studying or doing other things that none of the First Years were paying any attention to.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Ron mumbled around his mouthful. He swallowed, thankfully, and said, "So I took a bit longer to figure out this ki stuff. Turns out I'm a natural at it. Once I'm properly motivated that is, ain't that right, Harry?"

"If you call me running you ragged up and down every mountain surrounding this valley, followed by throwing energy blasts at you, before throwing you off a cliff properly motivated—then yeah, you're a natural wonder all right, Ron." They all laughed.

"What can I say, I'm not the best person at studying or meditation and all that mind over matter stuff that you've been teaching us. Put something in front of me, show me how to do it enough times, and I can do it just fine!" he said.

"You shouldn't just accept it like that," the lone Ravenclaw at the Gryffindor table said. "Believe me or not, Ronald, but just because it's not as easy as some other things, does not mean that it's not worth doing. And news flash, Mister Weasley, many of the things in the world that are worth doing are not easily done."

"Case in point, learning how to fly," Harry supported Hermione's statement. "You all wanted to learn, and pretty much all agree that it was worth learning how to do, right?"

They all nodded, agreeing.

"Ron, it took me throwing you off a cliff for you to figure it out and then it took you more than six hours to get back to the castle, when you could have run the distance in two and expended much less energy." The redhead blushed and ducked his head. "Neville, Justin, you two are barely able to reach the highest point of this castle for any length of time and on top of that I taught you the same time I taught Ron and Hermione. And Hermione... It took Ron tapping into his power for you to finally put everything together and piece together the clues enough for you to unleash your power. When actually you should have been able to do it the day after I moved you to the advanced training group. There are some of the older students that I trained that actually managed to figure out how to fly and shoot energy blasts on their own from the _basics_ that I taught everybody, no help from me whatsoever. I could sense it, right when you took off earlier today, Hermione."

They were all looking down at their laps by now. Harry smiled at them and continued.

"Now that your egos are sufficiently deflated and none of you are thinking that you're geniuses and whatnot, I'll say this," his smile became more genuine and a twinkle of pride shone from his eyes, "You've all done excellent. You actually exceeded my expectations. I fully expected that I would end up training everybody for the rest of the school term. Now... well..." his smile disappeared.

"What is it Harry?" Hermione asked, concerned at her friend's sudden drop in mood.

"I know I already told you this, I told everybody at the time in fact," he sighed and sat back against the table, staring up at the night sky/ceiling. "I made a promise to Professor Dumbledore. Only the basics, enough to make sure that nobody would wind up killing themselves or others by mistake. My original intention was to teach you all martial arts, share one of the things that I love about my family."

He looked back at all of them and leaned forward, elbows on the table, chin in his hands. "With Ron, the admitted dead last of everyone I was teaching, finally figuring out how to control his energy and everything else I've shown you... I now have to keep my promise. No more training."

"What?!" they all exclaimed.

"But I just got good at this!" Ron protested.

"I'm finally good at something!" Neville likewise spoke out.

"Harry, that's not fair!" Hermione huffed, arms crossed, angry pout on her face.

"Look, Harry, we're all with you, you don't have to..." Justin started to say, but Harry interrupted them.

"It's OK."

They stopped talking and looked at their friend, surprised.

"Really," he assured them. "It's OK. I happen to agree with the Headmaster's arguments, and I have noticed one or two in the group that might actually try something if they found out that they could be stronger than all the Professors, and could destroy and defend themselves against practically any kind of magic that would get thrown at them. Some of you, even out of you four, could probably one day be stronger even than Professor Dumbledore. And some of those that I've noticed, well they might actually be the sort to genuinely threaten our teachers."

"I would never!" Hermione hissed.

"Did I say that you would?" he countered, eliciting an uncontrolled blush from the bushy-haired girl. "No, I said that I had noticed one or two that have a tendency to bully other people. I probably don't even have to name any in particular for you lot to make a couple guesses."

A beat or two later, almost immediately given a second or two to think things through, the four of them all said together, "Parkinson."

"And one or two others," he added with a shrug. "Regardless, I made a promise and I intend to keep it. To train everyone that wanted to. And now that I've trained them, I'll keep my promise to Professor Dumbledore and won't train them beyond the basics."

Grumbling, they all acknowledged his points, nodding their heads despite not exactly liking the fact that training was now over.

"Of course," he said, drawing their attentions back up.

He smiled mischievously. "Of course, I can't do anything to control anybody once I stop training them. So there is nothing stopping them from continuing to practice and train on their own."

One by one, they all began to smile, their grins slowly matching the same mischievousness of his own. Then he stood up after a brief shrug to pull his arms off the table. "Well, I train most days just before breakfast, and in the hour before dinner. I've been doing some of my own training while I had the rest of you lot running laps, so I didn't fall behind or anything like that. And I just noticed that it's getting close to curfew. We'd better get to back to our rooms, eh?"

"Oh, you're right!" Hermione exclaimed, also getting to her feet.

"What! But what about my..." Ron looked down even as he was protesting and noticed that all the food and even the plates that held them had been cleared away and the table wiped clean, "... food? Hey! What gives! Why I oughta...awta...ooohh..." suddenly Ron keeled back on the bench and landed on the floor, flat on his back.

"Ron!" Justin and Neville dove to help their friend, helping him up.

"Huh, took him long enough," Harry commented.

"What happened to him?" Hermione asked.

"He's crashing," he gave the short answer.

"I'm-mmmwhuh?" Ron slurred, having trouble keeping his eyes open as his head lolled back and forth while Neville and Justin supported most of his weight.

"Crashing," Harry shrugged. "It's the common term for it. Used to happen to me and Gohan all the time. Well, me more than him, but that's for later."

"But what does it mean?" Hermione questioned, eyes wide with fright for one of her friends. "Should we take him to Madam Pomphrey?"

"You can if you want, but she'd say the same thing. Bed rest and a good nights sleep. Well, and food, but that's already been taken care of. In technical terms, his body has exhausted its nutritional reserves and perhaps even burned up as much of his fat cells that his metabolism can handle. The thing is, you did that while you were running up and down the mountains. Then you tapped into you ki and brought out your energy. That increases your metabolic conversion even more than heavy exercise does, and on top of that, it takes energy from your very nervous system, rather than just straight up bio-chemical energy like what happens in your day-to-day."

"Oh, I've heard about that, and I know what you're talking about from my science classes!" she exclaimed. "Athlete's call it 'hitting the wall' when they're physically exhausted and they have to push themselves even harder! But why is it only affecting Ron now? Why not when he was still flying back, or before dinner?"

"Because ki works differently," he answered, leading them out of the Great Hall and up the Grand Staircase. "Ki isn't just the energy your body makes from eating food and converting it in your digestive system. It's like I said, the energy from your nervous system, but also the electrokinetic field from air moving through your lungs, and the blood being pumped by your heart through your veins and arteries. All of it creates and is created by energy, which we can control, or at least channel by altering how those energies react to each other inside our bodies. Most do this via using the electric energy in their nerves and muscles to alter the electromagnetic fields throughout their body. And while the energy doesn't exactly stop flowing or moving once you use it, there are consequences to channeling it the way that I've shown you to do."

"Oh!" Hermione squeaked, her eyes alight with understanding. "Like when an electric current is run through a wire and it heats up as a consequence!"

"One very fine example," he grinned at her.

"Uh, I don't get it," Neville mumbled from one side of Ron as he and Justin helped the boy up the stairs. They were just passing the second floor by now, though it was still slow going.

"Oh, uh, well," Harry paused, scratching his head in thought. "Oh! I know! It's like using your wands! When a spell fizzles or backfires, you've noticed how the wand gets either really cold or really hot? Well, what's happening to Ron right now is the same thing that happens to your wand when you stop putting magic into it and it stops being hot or cold or whatever."

"Ohhh!" The other three boys nodded their heads.

"So... I'm... outta... magic...?" Ron slurred slightly, panting despite doing very little.

"You're ki is... reacting to the actions you put it through earlier," he answered. "One or two tricks, and the... reaction you're experiencing would be absorbed by the rest of your ki, the rest of your energy. Only problem is that you've exhausted all that extra energy, so there's nothing to keep you from feeling it. In the aftermath of the hot, the cold takes over after it passes. This would be the 'cold'. But again, common term is crashing."

"Will this happen to all of us?" she asked, concerned.

"Probably already has," he answered with a casual shrug. They were waiting on a staircase to move into place, waiting on the edge of a platform with no where to go. When it finally arrived, they found themselves coming out near the Trophy Room. "But like I said, unless you exhaust yourself, the most you feel is a bit out of breath and maybe some hunger pangs and some aches and pains. Again, crashing like this only happens when you exhaust all your reserves, which Ron has."

The clock struck the hour. The clock in this case was the school clock, which was big enough it had its very own tower and everybody in the entire valley could hear it when it struck the hour. After it was done, Hermione began fretting and Neville and Justin exchanged worried looks. "Curfew!" they all whispered.

"Meow!"

They all turned and looked behind them where the sound had come from. Standing there, glaring at them with her red glowing eyes, was Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris.

"Sniff around, my sweet," they heard Filch say from around the corner, "They're in here, probably hiding. They might be lurking in a corner."

Everyone's eyes, except for Harry, filled with fear and horror.

"This way!" Harry mouthed silently, gesturing down the hall opposite from where Filch was coming from. They all hurried after him, after having been petrified by fear. It was only due to their training that they managed to creep along as silently as they did, which unfortunately wasn't that silent.

They hurried down a long gallery full of armored suits. They could hear Filch getting nearer. Neville suddenly let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run—he tripped—and because he was holding Ron around the waist to help him move along with Justin, the lot of them toppled right into a suit of armor. The clanging and crashing were enough to wake the whole castle.

"Run!" Justin yelled as he helped the other two to their feet, and the five of them sprinted down the gallery, not looking back to see whether Filch was following—they swung around the doorpost and galloped down one corridor then another, Harry in the lead, with little idea as to where they were or where they were going—they ripped through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled along it and came out near their Charms classroom, which they knew was virtually miles from the trophy room.

"OK, that's just plain weird," Harry commented as he oriented his position within the castle. The place was even more convoluted and maze-like than the Lookout! And despite having already lived here a month and staying up late exploring the castle and training in that awesome training room, he _still_ hadn't come close to finding and figuring out all of the secret passages that went pretty much everywhere throughout the place.

"Is... he... following... us...?" Ron gasped, the only one out of breath.

Harry shook his head. "Nope, he's still that way," he pointed up at a forty degree angle and to the left of the tapestry on the opposite side of the hall from it, "A good fifty or more meters away. This place is an Escher wet dream."

Hermione giggled, the only one to get the joke.

"Let's get back," he said.

Unfortunately, it wasn't going to be that simple. They hadn't gone more than a dozen paces when a doorknob rattled and something came shooting out of a classroom in front of them.

It was Peeves. He caught sight of them and gave a squeal of delight. "Shut up, Peeves," Hermione begged the poltergeist, "Please, you'll get us thrown out!"

Peeves cackled. "Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty."

"Not if you don't give us away, Peeves, please," Justin added his voice to Hermione's.

"Should tell Filch, I should," said Peeves in a saintly voice, one could almost imagine a halo over his head, but his eyes glittered wickedly. "It's for your own good, you know."

"Get... outta... way..." slurred Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves, which was of course a big mistake. For the first part, it drained Ron of what little strength he had remaining, and for the rest...

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed, "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

Ducking under Peeves, they ran for it, right to the end of the corridor where they slammed into a door, and of course, it was locked.

They could hear footsteps echoing off the stone corridor behind them, Filch racing towards the source of Peeves's shouts. Hermione stepped forward, wishing to avoid getting caught as much as the rest of them, and said as she pulled her wand, "Oh move over! _Alohomora_!"

The lock clicked and silently the door swung open on its own. They piled in and shut the door behind them, the four pressing their ears against it to listen while Harry stepped back farther into the room they'd found themselves in.

"Which way did they go, Peeves?" Filch was saying. "Quick, tell me."

"Say please!" Peeves said, teasing.

"Don't mess with me, Peeves, now _where did they go_?" Filch shouted.

"Shan't say nothing if you don't say please," said Peeves in his annoying singsong voice.

"All right! _Please!_ " Filch growled.

"NOTHING! Ha haaa!" Peeves roared with laughter. "Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please! Ha ha! Haaahaaa!" And then they heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Filch cursing in rage.

"He thinks this door is locked still," Justin whispered. "I think we'll be OK. Neville, help me with Ron here, we need to—Neville? Neville, what is it?"

Together, they turned to see what Neville and Harry already had, though seemingly only one of the two was frightened by what they saw, and it was very clear on what it was.

They were looking straight into the eyes of a monstrous dog, a dog that filled the whole space between ceiling and floor. It had three heads. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction; three drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs. It was standing quite still, all six eyes staring at them, and the children knew that the only reason they weren't already dead was that their sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was no mistaking what those thunderous growls meant.

Harry, however, was the only one that did not seem to understand the angry rumbling noise coming from the giant beast, as he was walking right up to it, no sign of fear at all.

" _Harry!_ " Hermione hissed, trying to call him back while Justin tried for the doorknob. Between Filch and this beast, he'd take Filch any day of the week!

"Well aren't you a cute little puppy," Harry spoke in a gently 'talking-to-animals' voice.

"Harry?!" they all called out, wondering if their friend had lost his mind.

All three heads were growling like thunder now, baring teeth, anger in the eyes. Harry, ignoring all these warning signs, just smiled and walked right up to the unholy beast and stretched out his hand, most likely with the intention to pet it. It let out a deafening bark, made more so by the 'surround-sound stereo' of three heads.

Instinctively he recoiled, because even though he knew that it could do little to hurt him compared to a giant dinosaur, let alone a pair of dragons, or horde of aliens, or any of the villains, criminals, or creatures he'd fought throughout his life, it was still instinct to recoil when barked at or surprised. Frowning, he lowered his hand and glowered up at the hell hound.

"That's not nice," he reprimanded it. "You'd think he didn't remember me," he said, turning back to look at the others. Unfortunately it was the wrong thing to do.

All three heads struck, swift, sure, and very violently. The left one tore into Harry's right side, grabbing his arm and shaking it until it came loose from his body, while the right head tore into his left leg, intending on doing the same thing, while the middle latched onto his head, hoping to get the bulk of the meat. Except...

… Except that wasn't happening, it realized all at once. Yes, all three heads had bitten down, but to them it felt like they'd tried to chew through their chains (again). Except with the chains there had been at least a little give as the links bent under constant pressure. There was no give and there was no bending. For a creature that could crush stone in all three of its mouths, this was very alarming indeed.

"Did somebody forget to feed you today? Is that why you're cranky?" they all heard coming from inside the middle head's mouth. And then the impossible—which tended to happen quite often around members of the Son family—happened.

Using his free hand, Harry reached up and the same way a normal person would pry a ball or a stick from a normal dog, he released himself from the hell hound head covering his own, before quickly moving to free his other arm the same way and then using both arms together to free his leg. Other than stains of hell hound drool, there was absolutely no sign that he'd just been bitten by a monster dog from the underworld at all!

"You must be hungry, eh boy?" he said as he wiped the drool off his face. "Give me a second here..." he then stepped back and opened the trap door the hell hound was standing upon.

Whimpering, the three headed hound backed up off it and sat back on its haunches, very confused. Harry then dove down into the floor trap door and it slammed shut with a very final sounding bang. Collectively, Hermione, Justin, Neville and Ron gulped rather audibly. They were too scared to move, and deep down they each knew that they wouldn't leave Harry behind anyway. Thankfully, the hell hound was still too confused and alarmed by its encounter with Harry to try its luck with the other four also being impossible to bite.

A couple minutes of extremely tense silence later, it was finally broken by the trap door slamming open and Harry floating out of it with three feed bags. Without any explanation as to where he'd gone, where he'd gotten them, or even what they were, he tossed each to one of the heads, which enthusiastically tore into them. Soon it was merrily feasting on what looked to be rotten meat, oddly insect free.

"We should go now," Harry told his friends as he closed the trap door. "Let him eat in peace."

"OK!" they all agreed and there was a scrambling for the door.

Thankfully Filch had gone by this time, and the adrenaline of their encounter had boosted Ron's energy enough to walk normally for a bit. Justin could not let what had just happened pass by in silence, however. While Neville, on the other hand, looked like he would never speak again.

"Do you think they know that thing is there?" he asked as they started ascending the Grand Staircase once again.

"Of course!" Harry replied.

"What do they think they're doing... keeping a... a thing like that... locked up in a school?!" Ron exclaimed, starting to get out of breath again as the adrenaline started to wear off.

"Harry," Hermione said, a bit of trepidation to her voice, "What was in that trap door you went down into?"

" _That's_ what you're concerned about?!" Justin exclaimed at the Ravenclaw.

"Nothing much," Harry answered Hermione's question with a shrug. "Another corridor filled with even more fun house stuff, oh, and a really nice troll! He's the one I got the feed bags from. I met him when I went down there my first week here, traded him some sanitary supplies for free passage through his room and to get him to show me the other way out."

"Other way out?!" they all said at once.

"Yeah, the other way out of the dungeon that the trapdoor leads to. There's a secret passage at the end of the corridor, on the other side of this mirror they put in the middle of the room, and ironically it's on the floor, takes you out near the kitchens. It's how he stays fed while staying on guard duty. Unfortunately they forgot to allow him bathroom breaks and a time to shower when setting up his schedule, and trolls, while very temperamental, when you make a contract with them they will stick to the letter of the contract. Believe me, I know. So I got him some soap and worked with the elves on getting him buckets of water delivered before and after his sleep time, and also informed them that he'd need a waste bucket. Basic sanitary stuff. Good thing too, because it was already starting to stink up down there, I'd hate to think what it might be like a few months from now!"

"Why is there a three headed dog..." Justin started to ask.

"Hell hound," Hermione automatically corrected.

"Excuse me?"

"It is a hell hound," she replied, being hyper-rational after her fright. "In the Greek myths of the Underworld, there was a hell hound guarding the gates of Tartarus, Hell. It was named Cerberus, if that helps you any. Thankfully this one did not breath fire or drool venom."

"Yeah, well," Justin shot her a concerned look before shaking his head, "Anyway! Why is there a hell hound and a troll guarding a dungeon in this school in the first place? Why would they let things like that around children at all?"

Harry laughed.

"Hey!" Justin snapped. "We're still learning this ki stuff Harry! We didn't grow up with this stuff, we're not as invulnerable as you and your family!"

"Sorry," the adopted Son said, trying to control his laughter, "Sorry, sorry! You're right. You are right. It's just... compared to dinosaurs and the other kinds of creatures running around right outside my house most days, something like that really is like a puppy. A small puppy. As for your comment about letting them around children, well, Gohan and I grew up for a year in the wilderness, and both before and after that, our dad often took us out to play with those same dinosaurs and various other creatures. My brother has a dragon he's named Icarus as a pet. We're also neighbors and good friends with a family of Pterodactyls. And I've told you that Hagrid is my Mom's cousin, right? Which means that we have..." he trailed off, expecting one of them to finish the sentence for him.

"G-g-giants...?" Neville stuttered, surprising them and himself at speaking at all.

"Exactly right," Harry nodded. "Plus a MerTribe, and herds of every magical creature in the books. No werewolves or vampires though. They tend to keep to themselves and never entered our territory. Bah, that's for a later time. Here we are, Ron, Neville."

"Oh, uh, I-I-I... I forgot the password," Neville whispered, looking downcast.

Half-unconscious by this time, Ron lolled his head back and said to the Fat Lady portrait, "Pig snout..."

"Oh dear, is he all right?" the Fat Lady asked, even as she swung open to reveal the passage to Gryffindor tower.

"Don't worry," Harry told her. "Have you got him Neville?"

"Y-yeah," the Gryffindor nodded as he helped Ron through the portrait hole.

"Some rest is all he needs," Harry finished telling the Fat Lady once she'd closed up. "Well, good night!"

"Good night, Mr. Son!" she called as the trio turned the corner to go across the Castle to Ravenclaw Tower next.

Having been stunned and emotionally traumatized enough for one evening, Justin and Hermione were both oddly quiet as Harry escorted them back to their respective dormitories. After Justin was squared away, he almost immediately ran into Filch.

"Ah hah! Student out of bed!" he screamed, pointing at Harry's face.

"And this is different from how many other nights this year so far, Mr. Argus?" Harry responded, arms crossed.

"I... oh, it's you," the caretaker grumbled and lowered his arm. "Out for another run, are we Harry?"

"Just heading back for warm-up actually," he answered. "But if you need help with anything, I'll be more than happy to..."

"No, no, I'm good lad. Thanks for the offer though. Come along, Mrs. Norris," he said down to his cat and they continued their patrol. Harry gave the greasy, red-eyed cat an affectionate scratch, eliciting a loud purr from her, but soon she was chasing after her human and Harry was heading back to the First Tower.

Harry had run into Argus Filch his second night at Hogwarts, while on his warm-up jog to spend a few hours in the hidden training room. At first, the caretaker had called him out and chased him down. Harry hadn't even been aware that he was being chased at first, but when the same cat kept appearing right in front of him every time he turned a corner, he finally slowed down enough to allow Filch to catch up to him.

After a rather interesting conversation, with Harry using pure rational logic to counter each and every one of Filch's shouted accusations, interspersed with the student offering quiet, gentle inquiries into the caretaker's life, position, and general well-being, the two found themselves in somewhat of a camaraderie. After a week of such conversations, usually had in the post-midnight hours when Harry was on his way to the training room after warming up in his quarters, Filch didn't show up one night.

So Harry went looking for him and found him cleaning up a rather extreme mess made by the Weasley twins earlier that day. Because it was magical, it inhibited the House Elves ability to clean it, and so Filch was using a mop and brush while the House Elves were busy cleaning the rest of the castle. Seeing the situation, Harry hadn't said a word, while Filch just glared at him and scoffed, continuing to work. And then Harry had gotten another mop and brush set and silently started to work alongside the caretaker.

What had really impressed Filch though, more than just Harry helping him out without being asked, was that the boy, not once, used a lick of magic to make the job go faster. Oh, he used that enormous strength of his, and moved at least a hundred times faster than the fastest elf in the world with their own unique magic, but by this point Harry had made it clear that his skills were not in fact actual magic. That made all the difference to Filch in the end. So any time he caught Harry out of bounds or out after curfew, rather than take points or get the lad into more trouble, he chatted him up and sometimes asked his help on cleaning some of the more stubborn messes littered about.

Tonight, thankfully, there was no mess, so Harry hurried along his way to his training routine.

 _Great Hall_

 _Next Morning_

Harry was eating breakfast when he felt it. It was like a shot of lightning right in front of his eyes, but a very familiar shot of lightning just the same.

He was eating at the Ravenclaw table this morning. Getting to his feet, he looked straight up and then a bit to the East. There, in the ceiling of the Great Hall, where one could see the outside sky instead, was a sight that no wizard at Hogwarts had ever seen before. That of a young boy riding on a yellow-gold cloud like it was a skateboard.

Everyone else, seeing Harry standing and staring, soon looked for themselves and noticed the unusual sight. Whispers started to fly around the room like buzzing hornets.

"Ha-hah!" Harry laughed out loud, fists on his hips. "Well, it's about time he got here!"

With that said, he took off out of the Great Hall, actually flying at a considerable speed, something he'd never done before. Fly indoors that is. Outside, he set himself down in the open court yard where he'd done most of his training with the other students. Then he shouted as loud as he could, "GOHAN! HEY GOHAN!" He then whistled as loudly as he could, even trying to push a bit of his magic and ki toward the action to make it louder.

It seemed to work as the gold cloud changed course from where it seemed to be circling the valley and headed straight for him. When it looked like he was about to pass over again, he called out one more time, "GOHAN!"

The cloud stopped and a small figure jumped from it, flipping through the air like a maple key in the wind. The figure was soon revealed to be a small boy of about 10-11 years of age in a violet gi with a red belt across his waist, and some thick white padding around his collar. His mane of wild black hair, which fell to his shoulders, was held back only by a slim white headband. His face was expressive, but also clearly Eastern in origin, with dark eyebrows, and dark eyes the same color as his hair. He was currently smiling, which lit up his whole face. He landed lightly on his feet and charged straight at the young wizard.

"HARRY!" he shouted as they met and hugged each other.

"What took you so long?!" Harry shouted back, thumping his brother on the back, hugging him tighter. It had been a rare thing for the brothers to be seen apart growing up, and most often when it did happen it had almost always been because things were really bad. Thus they'd each grown accustomed to seeing one another at least a few times a day and when they didn't, a discomforting feeling of unease and anxiety usually lingered about them. Which probably explained more than anything else why Harry had bothered with training the students of Hogwarts in the first place, to try and dispel that sense of disquiet he had from being separated from his brother for so long.

All that immediately went away the moment they saw each other once again.

END "Episode 7: Hogwarts Lessons"

(AN: Wow. Lot of Lengthy Reviews in recent days. I truly love those. And just in time for my Birthday no less! As such, they certainly deserve an adequate response, so; "Loki's Tongue", "KingKong94", "God-King Ghidora", "Manda's Priest", and "Zwarrior4Life", Thank You!

… Although I'm thinking 'Loki', 'Ghidora' and 'Kong' might be the same person considering both left nearly identical reviews, and those facts were practically carbon-copied from the HPWiki. Not even the HPLexicon, the HP _ **WIKI**_. Needless to say, to keep myself from getting sued, or have fingers pointing at me for plagiarizing, _this_ Harry is somewhat... _very_ different from the canon Harry Potter described in the HPWiki. :)

To Manda; Interesting ideas all around. Didn't know that about the Animagus process, although it sounds made up, parts of it do line up with some of the 'process of magic' that JK displayed in her books (making of the Polyjuice Potion for example). So I do appreciate the information and undoubtedly will make use of it at some point. Now, as for Merlin...

Minor rant here; most other fanfic authors seem to take for granted or forget the role that Merlin has on the British Wizarding World. He's essentially their, (pardon my expression), their *"Jesus Christ"*, their _Saviour_. And then Fanfic writers have him going to Hogwarts in the Gryffindor House. Unh-uh. No. If Merlin was *taught* by the Founders, they'd be swearing and etc _*by_ * the Founders. In this (and all my other HP fanfics), Merlin * _trained_ * the Founders, and then they went and started Hogwarts using his teachings.

Now, even with that being said, Harry is an exception, as the rule of DBZ (as evidenced by Babbidi and other "magicians") while magic is potent, it is essentially useless for fighting and thus wizards and the like are not as strong in a fight as dedicated ki-fighters. Merlin, his legacy, and any relationship to his "power" will not be a part of this story. Sorry. I do have something planned along the lines of where you were going with that, but that will have to wait until later on in the story. Not to worry though.

To Zwarrior4Life... I think you might've double-posted there. Not that I mind, just want to be careful of that sort of thing in the future. Sounds like a very interesting story, and a fascinating premise. Drop me a link when you have the story posted, I'll be sure to leave at least as long a review as what you've left for me here. :)

To all other Readers and Reviewers, as I'm sure you've noticed by now, I've been posting at least one chapter a month for this story. If you've *really* been paying attention, you'll note the days that I've posted the chapters; Chapter 5 on May 5th, Chapter 6 on June 6th, and now Chapter 7 on July 7th. I intend to keep to the trend, at least until the New Year. I have enough prewritten to at least make it to next March, and hopefully more by then. Although I may have to rethink what _days_ I post on. Please Enjoy and drop Reviews when you can! And I'm always open to new ideas and suggestions. Some suggestions may even make it into the story due to writer's block on my part. Thanks For Reading!)


	8. Hogwarts Guests

Episode 8: "Hogwarts Guests"

 _Hogwarts Castle_

 _Morning_

"What took you so long?!" Harry shouted at his brother as they released each other from their hugging embrace.

"Well, Dad let me take Nimbus to get here, since Mom still doesn't want him anywhere near this place for some reason," said Gohan, still smiling widely. "So I kinda went straight here after the letter arrived about my scholarship. Piccolo and Dad were kinda worried about both of us being gone, but I promised them that we'd keep up with our training."

"Oh yeah, Gohan you won't believe it, there's this training room in here..." he trailed off, his expression one of ecstatic excitement, "It's better than anything Capsule Corp has! I'll show it to you tonight after dinner and..."

"Harry!" a girl's voice shouted out.

The Son brothers turned and found a slowly growing number of Hogwarts students standing before them. Hermione was at the front, but she came up short upon catching sight of Gohan. "Oh! Who is this?" she asked, surprised.

"Hey guys!" Harry replied, grinning widely. "This is my brother, Gohan. Gohan, these are my friends. Hermione, Ron, Justin, and Neville."

"Hi everyone!" Gohan greeted them, smiling broadly.

"What's he wearing?" Ron asked, not as quietly as he apparently thought he had been.

"Ha ha!" Gohan laughed, scratching the back of his head, slightly embarrassed as he looked down at his dirty purple shirt and pants with frayed red belt and puffy white collar. "I didn't think it would be good to wear my school uniform on the way here, so I just wore my training clothes. Dad and Piccolo wanted to squeeze in every last bit of training they could with me before I left, and since Mom wouldn't let Dad just drop me off..."

"Yeah," Harry nodded in understanding. "Well don't worry about that, there's plenty we can do to train around here. There's even a..."

"So can you do everything Harry can do?" Ron interrupted, eyeballing the half Saiyan fighter.

Gohan laughed again, though with a bit less amusement, and asked in return, "Well that depends on what you mean when you say everything."

"You know," he said enthusiastically, "Flying, fighting, and shooting out energy! Not to mention all the other stuff he's been teaching us!"

Harry groaned, slapping his hand over his eyes and running it down his face.

"Ron!" Hermione hissed at the redhead.

"What?" he asked, clueless.

Gohan shot some curious glances between his brother and the others there. Then he took a slightly longer look at the wizards and witch. Finally he said, "Oh!"

He looked at Harry expectantly, hands on his hips. Harry just shrugged and replied with, "I was bored! And there was this thing on the train... Long story short, I showed off a bit, Hermione here was curious and when I explained it all, everybody wanted to join in. Don't worry, I've stopped training them directly."

"That could be dangerous," said Gohan.

"After," said Harry, "making sure they wouldn't do anything stupid and could actually train themselves successfully if they choose to. The dead last with the big mouth there just managed to reach the plateau you and I were at in the wilderness before turning back."

"You've been at this school for a _month_!" Gohan exclaimed, surprised.

"What can I say," Harry teased, "I guess magic really does help out more than having an infinite well of power to pull out when you get really ticked off."

"Oh, I'll show you infinite power you!" Gohan laughed, moving to attack, but Harry dodged just in time to avoid it.

"Infinite power?" Neville questioned, speaking up for the first time.

"Hey, it's nothing like that," Gohan protested, throwing up his hands. "I just... have a bit of a temper and sometimes well... I don't really like talking about it."

"Gohan is probably the strongest being on this planet, if we're talking about total potential," Harry explained to his friends. "While Dad—our Dad—Goku, is undoubtedly the strongest fighter on the planet, that's mostly because he trains hard and works at it and he just plain never gives up in the middle of a fight. But as far as raw power, even Gohan has him beat."

"I do not!" the half Saiyan argued. "And it's not like your magic doesn't help you out more than a bit! You're even stronger than Dad and Krillin were when they were our age! And until Piccolo showed up, they were the strongest fighters around, after Master Roshi."

"And you're like a thousand times stronger than me," Harry argued back. "Gohan, you were stronger than Dad and Krillin when we were _four years old_! Heck, I think you were stronger than Piccolo at the same age when he was still called Piccolo Junior!"

"THAT'S who your _sensei_ is?!" Hermione screamed, recognizing the name.

"Yeah," both brothers answered her with a shrug, turning back to their own argument.

"So you want me to actually say it? Fine, I'll say it," Gohan grumbled. "Harry here is the runt of the family. He's the weakest and most frail member of the Son family and your going off to school is just going to make you weaker when the androids finally get here."

"Runt of the family?" Justin repeated.

"Well, OK, you don't have to go that far," Harry grumbled, arms crossed. "I'm just saying you don't have to be so modest about it."

"Yeah, and you don't have to shove it in my face every time it comes up that I'm stronger than you! Runt!"

Harry narrowed his eyes and snapped back, "Beast!"

"Wizard!"

"Powerhouse!"

"Cheater!"

"Drunk!"

Gohan's eyes went wide. "ONE time! _**ONE**_! And I was like four and a half at the time!"

"Five! You were five years old, and I was the one that was four and a half! You got the 4 Star, I got the 2 Star, they took us both, but at least I wasn't dumb enough to eat fruit from a tree that was filled with alcohol!"

"No, instead you just kept changing the colors of the room and everybody in them!"

"Why you... I outta..." Harry clenched his fists. Before anybody could do anything though, somebody else joined the gathering, rather uninvited.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Draco Malfoy asked as he walked up.

"Another friend?" Gohan asked, bad mood apparently forgotten.

"Eh, not necessarily," Harry answered, scratching the back of his neck.

"Yes, Son, why don't you explain our... acquaintance to the muggle?" Malfoy mocked him.

Harry frowned and turned a hard eye to the blonde Slytherin. "This is my _brother_ , Son Gohan. And this waste of soon to be scattered atoms, is Draco Malfoy. He's a First Year like us and in Slytherin House. I've taken it to be the house of masochistic idiots, seeing as I've already crippled the entirety of that House for my year once. Seems I'm going to have to do it again."

"Whoa, hey Harry, calm down!" Gohan grabbed his brother by the shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"Remember that word that we heard the woman in the train station say? The one that Mom told me to never say in front of her, ever?" Harry growled out between clenched teeth.

"Uh, the same word that blondie there just called me?" Gohan confirmed, thumb jerked in Malfoy's direction.

"BLONDIE?!" Draco screeched, drawing his wand.

"Remember the Civil Liberties part of our History lessons? What dark-skinned people and other races were called?"

Gohan frowned and shot an ugly look toward the glowering young wizard. Looking back to his brother, he shrugged and said, "Yeah, OK, just don't kill him, all right?"

"I'll do my best," said Harry, fists clenching so tight the knuckles popped.

"Duel me, Son! I'll have your blood to satisfy my honor from what your _muggle_ sibling called me!" Draco shouted.

"And I'll have yours twice over for the same," Harry said, voice steady and low, but nowhere near calm. "Just one problem with your proposal, Malfoy. I don't duel."

Draco shot him a disbelieving look before thinking it over for a bit and smirking, countered with, "Fine! Then let's just fight it out! With magic!"

Smirking in reply, Harry stepped away from his friends and brother so it was just him and Draco on the field of battle. "Fine. Stop wasting my time and start. You're going to bleed for what you called my brother, but I'm no bully and I don't throw the first punch in a fight unless I need to. You've shown me plenty of times already that I don't need to... _Blondie_!"

"Draw your wand!" Draco ordered, incensed.

Rolling his eyes with a sigh, Harry did pull out his wand, but held it casually at his side, with his off-hand. It was clear to everyone that he had no intention of using it at all. Draco shook his head, the smirk turning into a scoff. He wanted Harry to take him seriously as a threat. Seems that he'd actually have to prove himself to be that threat after all.

" _Titillando_!" Draco cast. To his, and everyone else's surprise, the jinx hit, but there was no reaction from Harry. Except perhaps a slight smile and a shrug of the shoulders.

"Heh," the fighter laughed briefly, "Tickles."

"Of course it does!" Draco sneered, "It's the Tickling Jinx!"

"Good to know," Harry acknowledged, showing no further sign that it was affecting him.

" _Rictusempra_! _Tarantallegra_! _Locomotor Wibbly_!" Draco fast cast three spells in a row, each one of them landing on an unresistant Harry, causing him to laugh uncontrollably while his legs started doing a crazy jig before seeming losing all strength and going limp beneath him. He finished it up with, " _Supplanto_!" which sent the dark-haired boy crashing to the ground.

 _(*AN: Supplanto lit. means "to trip up." There is no official incantation for the Tripping Jinx, so this is my stab at it.)_

"Hah!" Draco crowed, "Didn't take as much as I thought it would! Enjoy eating dirt, Son!"

Harry's reply was to put his hands flat on the ground and then push himself off the ground in a flying flip that would be impossible for all but the most dedicated Olympic level athletes, and land on his non-dancing, strong and stable legs, no sign he'd been cursed at all. He flexed his fingers and fists a bit, rolling his shoulders as well as stretching his legs out. Then he nodded to his opponent and said, "Thanks. I think I got those. What else you got?"

Growling with frustration and anger at being one-upped, Draco fired off the one spell he knew that Harry had trouble with the last time they'd fought. " _Depulso_!" pointing his wand, solely at the dark-haired fighter, either expecting him to dodge or get blasted back.

Harry smiled, set his feet and held up one hand as he adjusted his magic to negate that which was being directed at him. As such, his hand was briefly surrounded by a green glow the moment the wave of magical force hit it and then dispersed the moment it was gone. Harry's hair wasn't so much as moved by the spell, let alone did it send him flying.

Draco stepped back, stunned. Harry's friends all gasped, shocked. Gohan, he snorted and said, "Show off."

Testing, Draco tried the same combo that had just worked perfectly against Harry Son moments ago. " _Rictusempra_! _Tarantallegra_! _Locomotor Wibbly_! _Supplanto_!" They all hit, but unlike before, there was a brief flash of green light the moment they hit and they had absolutely no effect on Harry himself.

There was a silence in the court yard as everyone slowly came to the realization of what had just happened and what it meant for the fight. Harry had already demonstrated his ability to negate spells and deflect magic. Now he had just proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that he could do so as long as he'd witnessed or experienced the spell beforehand, and then only once was needed.

"Is that it?" Harry asked, lowering his hand.

" _Locomotor Mortis_!" Draco cast in desperation. Harry's legs snapped together but he did not fall over. A moment later, he slowly and deliberately pulled his legs apart, fighting the magical force drawing them together through sheer physical strength. A pulse of magic later, and it was clear that he was no longer fighting it as the spell was successfully countered.

" _Petrificus Totalus_!" he tried again, following it with an instant, " _Stupefy_!"

This time Harry did fall over, but before he'd gotten even halfway down, there was another pulse of magic and he turned it into a back flip, landing perfectly on his feet.

"Those are pretty weak," Gohan commented from the sidelines. "It's no wonder that Harry keeps overcoming and negating their effects so easily."

"How do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"Well," said Gohan with a shrug, "I've seen Harry use magic attacks before, so I know that magic is not in itself weak. But what Harry uses is pretty much just raw energy. What I can sense of what Drago—"

"Draco," Hermione automatically corrected.

"Right, him," Gohan nodded. "What I can sense of what he's using, those... what are they, spells? They're focused entirely on the end effect and all the power is being put toward that effect. The only thing is... there's not very much power in them."

"So what you're saying is that Harry is overpowering the spells with his own magic via raw strength? No... _technique_ or spell or magical effect or anything?" she clarified, stunned by the revelation.

"Basically," he agreed, arms crossed.

" _Sectumsempra_!" Draco tried the lethal spell that he'd cast the last time he'd fought Harry.

Harry, rather than dodge this time, took it and to everyone's surprise a large slash appeared across his chest. Only... it only penetrated his clothes and the first few layers of epidermis. Enough to make Harry bleed, but it almost instantly clotted and other than a few drops here and there, it was practically healed right before their eyes.

"What the bloody hell are you?!" Draco screamed.

"Very strong," was Harry's mocking reply. "Are you done yet?"

Draco responded by firing every single spell that had been taught thus far in Charms, Transfiguration, Defense, and even some from Herbology. Since Harry had been taught these same spells the same as Draco had, he didn't bother with allowing them to hit, instead canceling them out before they'd even reached him. Seeing this, Draco became very angry. This was not turning out the way that he'd planned or wanted it to. The way it was going, he would have to reveal his trump card sooner rather than later.

"Guess so," Harry answered his own question. "I'm going to give you a chance here, Malfoy. That is, I am now warning you to put up your strongest defense, before I hit you with the same spell you started this with."

"W-wh-what?" Draco stuttered.

Harry raised his wand as his only reply, and then Draco was out of time. " _Stupefy_ ," he cast, mimicking the same wand motion that all the Slytherins and Draco had done earlier during their first fight.

" _Protego_!" Draco made a circular motion with his wand, just barely erecting a magical shield from the tip.

From Harry's wand, a jet of red light shot forth, brighter and with greater force than anything the First Years had seen as of yet in their education. There was an actual pressure in the air around them as the bolt passed, and though it was there and gone in less time than a blink of an eye, it left a visible trail that practically burned itself into their corneas. Draco didn't even have time to fully react, the only thing that saved him was the fact that he was already diving to the side even as he cast the shield spell, following advice his father had once given him during their weekly duel training lessons growing up.

The shield was obliterated, and its destruction didn't so much as slow down the stunning spell Harry had cast. The spell wound up going on past where Draco had been standing and hit the pillar behind him, obliterated that in a shower of dust, kept going and then blew a hole through the wall behind said pillar and kept going until it hit the Whomping Willow across the way, which immediately sagged all its limbs, stunned.

"Now _that_ ," Gohan commented, pointing at the after effects of his brother's spell, "that, Harry would not be able to counter or block. His only option would be to overpower it or dodge it. Good thing Dracula..."

"Draco," Hermione corrected once again.

"Right, him," Gohan nodded absently. "Good thing he dodged. I get the feeling that he'd be out for a while if he'd seriously tried to block or protect against one of Harry's spells."

Draco struggled back to his feet from the dive he'd taken. He didn't bother looking behind him at the devastation Harry's spell had left, not that it would have done that much beyond demoralize him some more. He shouted a few other First Year spells, things that really wouldn't do anything at all, but proved to be effective distractions. Sparks, flashes of light, loud sounds, things that Professor Flitwick had shown his First Year students as party favors and rewards alongside the actual lessons.

As a result, Harry did actually flinch back from the magical equivalent of a flash bang combination of spells. It wasn't Tien's _Solar Flare_ technique, but it was efficient enough. Seeing his opponent actually give a reaction besides bored contempt, Draco sought to capitalize on it.

He powered up as quickly as he could, forcing the energy into his muscles and body as fast and as hard as he ever had. It hurt. Not in a bad painful injury way, but a hard painful exertion way, and like any exertion with enough force behind it, the body and mind have to give in some way or else burst from the pressure.

"Hhaaahhh!" Draco screamed, a soft glow coming from him. "DEPULSO!" he screamed.

Harry's eyes went wide and then he went flying! He didn't even have enough time to think about dodging the wave of raw magical force cast at him before it hit. Whether intentional or not, Draco had just figured out how Harry 'powered up' his own spells. Unfortunately for Harry, that was not the last of Draco's trump cards.

Leaping into the air, the blonde Slytherin went some seven to ten feet up and started gathering his energy in his non-wand hand. Before their eyes, and more importantly before Harry could get back on his feet, a ki ball roughly the size of a quaffle formed in Draco's hand and soon stabilized, telling those with the eye of experience that it _would_ explode and it _would_ hit whatever it was aimed at, rather than fizzle or shoot off to nowhere.

" **HAAAHH**!" Draco screamed as he fired the ki ball straight at Harry's prone form.

Harry stared, genuinely surprised, as the energy blast shot right at him and hit dead center on his torso. The moment that happened, it exploded in a blinding flash of light and deafening roar of sound, kicking up a cloud of dust as the initial explosion faded. The force of it knocked all the magic users on the ground back and the dust cloud forced them to cover their faces, while Gohan continued watching, his shoulder-length black hair waving in the breeze.

Panting from the exertion of the energy he'd just expended, Draco slowly came back down to the stone floor of the court yard, sweat dripping from his brow and messing up his once pristine blonde hair. He was smirking, confident that he'd finally one-upped his self-proclaimed rival. Undoubtedly the other boy was much stronger, but it wasn't about actual strength to Slytherins, it was about the singular moment where the weakness was obvious and could be taken advantage of to knock the other guy down. In Slytherin House, it was all about cunning. Gryffindors were the ones to care about actual strength.

The cloud of dust was still hanging in the air, but pretty soon things began to settle, and a figure could be seen standing in the middle of the cloud. Soon enough, Draco could finally make out the figure and he could not believe it. His mouth hung open in shock, and a soft croaking sound came from his throat as the scream of disbelief got stuck there.

"H-how?!" Hermione screamed for him. "It hit! It blinded me, but I... I saw it hit! How...?!"

"It did hit, and it was pretty powerful too," Harry said as the last of the dust fell from the air and he stood, clearly visible, not so much as a fresh tear in his clothing or a bruise on his skin. He was pretty dirty, but that was mostly from being on the ground and the subsequent dust cloud. Other than that, nobody could say that he'd been hit at all, if they hadn't seen it with their own eyes of course.

"Bro, stop making fun of him," Gohan said with a laugh. "What was it you were saying about bullies before?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Harry waved off his comments. "Still, that surprised me, Malfoy. Good thing I kept my guard up, otherwise that might have hurt."

" _How strong are you_?!" Draco finally screamed, eyes wide in fear and sweat running down his face, fists clenched. He looked ready to either fight or flee, nobody could say which. Not even Draco.

"Not that strong," Harry shrugged, self-depreciating. "Gohan's way more powerful than I am. And don't even get me started about Dad and his friends."

" **HAAAHH**!" he yelled, firing another ki blast that he formed with both hands this time, but it was still the same size.

Harry watched as it came at him at the same speed the first one did, and then with contemptuous ease, he backhanded the blast, sending it careening over his head and far enough away that it wouldn't hurt anybody. In the distance, the blast exploded with the same flash of light and sound. They could all see the dust cloud from where it hit.

"Bloody hell," Ron muttered.

The rest were too stunned for words. Yeah, sure, Harry had been teaching them ki and doing all these amazing, impossible things, but... this was on a whole other level and they knew it!

"Now see," Harry explained to Draco, "there you should have aimed that at my feet or legs. That puts it just far enough outside my reach that my arms can't properly deflect it, and the force from the explosion would still be enough to cause sufficient injury. Forcing me to either waste energy protecting myself, or to dodge it and retreat. Depending on your ultimate strategy, either would be viable options."

"Head and torso shots will always be guarded against, and sometimes even countered," he continued. "You only want to go for that if your opponent is weakened, or you've got the drop on him. Like you had with me earlier. By the way, want to know what it is that you did wrong there?"

"What?" Draco shouted, fear still flooding his system.

"You only fired one shot," he told him. "I was half expecting to have to endure a dozen or more blasts, but what surprised me almost as much as you firing off a perfect ki blast was that you only fired _one_ and then stopped like the fight was over! You just proved that you can fire more than one, albeit not very quickly, so... why? That's my question."

"Are you kidding me?!" Draco screamed. "It's bloody hard enough as it is just to keep the bloody thing stable! Took me days of work to perfect this attack, and you're saying _it's not enough_?"

Harry and Gohan stared at the blonde wizard, their faces a mask.

"What?!" he finally yelled at them, uncomfortable with the staring.

"Your whole strategy for today was to fire one energy blast at me?" the younger Son brother stated, incredulity dripping from every word.

"It was supposed to be my trump card and send you to the Hospital Wing!"

"And you spent days on making sure that you could fire _one blast_ perfectly, instead of multiple blasts at a time from either hand?" Gohan asked, equally incredulous.

"It wasn't exactly easy!"

"Hm," Hermione broke the tension with but a single sound.

"What are you thinking, Hermione?" Harry asked.

Rather than reply, she held out both her hands before her, and then turned to face away from everybody. Moments later, it was obvious what she was trying to do. Correction, what she was _doing_!

Between her hands, energy began to build up, at first nothing but a soft glow and random sparks going off, but soon it began to stabilize until she had a ki ball of the same size and power as what Draco had fired off already. It was complete in less than a third of the time it had taken for him to form his energy blast.

Frowning, she commented, "That's not hard at all. Yes, I can see how you could easily fire multiple blasts at a time. Ah!" she squeaked as the energy ball began to move between her hands, at first forward, and then up and down, but very slowly. "Oh! I see, not hard to move at all. And it can move with my hands as well. So simple, I'm amazed I hadn't tried this myself before now."

"Harry taught you, didn't he?" Gohan asked, confused by her childlike fascination.

"Oh, yes, but only in how to access, control, and train up our ki using abilities. I had to beg him to show us how to fly, and he only..." she paused and reabsorbed the energy from the ki ball in her hands and then glared at Draco. "And he only taught the _four_ of us how to do it! How did Malfoy learn how to fly?"

"He listened in from around the corner," Harry shrugged. "I didn't mind really. I wanted to teach everybody all the little tricks and stuff, but Professor Dumbledore put a stop to that. I figured Malfoy wasn't listening when I warned about not teaching anybody else and that he would try to train others and when that failed, they would come to me directly. So far only a few from Ravenclaw and Slytherin have, but there you go."

"Now Malfoy," he turned back to the blonde wizard, "I like how you're taking your training seriously and all, but you need to readjust your focus. Just shooting energy blasts won't help you. You need to start fighting physically as well as magically, close range as well as mid range. For example," he walked up to the fearful student, "when you punch someone and you want them to stay down, you've got to hit them in the solar plexus." He then demonstrated it by snapping a quick punch to aforementioned solar plexus.

Draco immediately dropped to the ground, curling up instinctively over his wounded torso. Everyone could hear his suddenly labored breathing, coming out in wheezing gasps, and it was clear that he had practically no strength to even stand back up.

"Also, to guard against that, all you have to do is exhale and then lean just an inch or two out of the way, almost any direction, and then the blow is much less effective," he said as he patted the boy on the head and walked away.

Only to stop and turn back with a dark look in the blonde's direction. "Oh, and Malfoy," he said, his voice back to the same low, steady, but absolutely _not_ calm tone it had been before, "Don't think I didn't forget about what you said to my brother."

Turning fully back around to face the prone boy, Harry actually lowered his power level, dropping his strength down to barely a percentage of his true abilities. "Let me show you a few other techniques that you can think on during your next few days of enforced bed rest in the Hospital wing."

What followed, while potentially informative, was the most brutal one-sided beating any of the children, (save for Gohan of course), had ever witnessed outside of a fictional story, whether it be from a book, a movie, TV show, or some other medium. The end result was a broken, bloody, and extremely bruised Draco Malfoy lay moaning on the cobblestone ground of the court yard. A quick conversation with a nearby gargoyle had a House Elf popping away with the body to the Hospital Wing.

"Well that was neat," Gohan laughed as Harry rejoined them. "Is that all you've been doing here? Training up the other students just so you can beat them up without feeling like a bully?" He still remembered what Draco had called him and what it really meant, so while part of him felt kinda bad, it was overshadowed by the vindictiveness of the racist being taught his lesson in good manners.

"Heh," Harry shrugged. "My first thoughts, actually, were to train them up to be sparring partners and to help me—us—with our training. I wanted to get them as strong as possible as quick as I could, but Professor Dumbledore came up to me while we were training and pointed out that training a school full of teenagers in ways to be more powerful than any adult authority figure in said school wasn't exactly the best of ideas."

"Funny," Justin said, "when you told everyone that training was done and over with, you made it seem like it was more than that. I'm just saying."

Reluctantly, Harry nodded his head, sighing. "Well, OK, yes, there was... he tried to force some kind of non-violence ideology on me. It was subtle, but after dealing with the likes of Piccolo and Vegeta and even Frieza, it was easy to spot."

"And people still don't believe me when I tell them that you're the dangerous one," Gohan chuckled.

"What? So I like fighting as much as Dad! Well, OK, not _as much_ as Dad, but you know what I mean!" Harry rolled his eyes.

"Uh huh," his brother kept chuckling.

"So," Harry tried to move the conversation in a different direction as he lead them down to the lake, "how's training with Dad and Piccolo going anyway? Pick up any new tricks?"

"Nah," Gohan shook his head. "I'm only a few seconds faster and they both still cream me one-on-one. It was better when we could double-team one of them."

"Only a few seconds faster, huh?" Harry repeated in a mocking tone. They both completely ignored the fact that average fighters trained for years just to shave a few fractions of a second off their reaction speed and to do the same with whole seconds in a matter of _weeks_ was unheard of to the world at large.

"Oh, and how much stronger and faster have you gotten here at boarding school?" Gohan mocked right back.

"Hey, you were the one complaining about not being able to come with me and being stuck at home with Mom for home-schooling!" Harry retorted.

"Yeah, well lets see just what the difference between us is like now, Bro! I'll give _you_ something to complain about!" Gohan growled back, smirking.

"I'm game any time you are, and after that disappointing surprise by Malfoy, I'm geared up for some real action," Harry smirked in reply.

"Right here, right now!" Gohan jumped back and away from his brother, at the same time Harry jumped back in the other direction.

"Wait, what? You're brothers!" Hermione protested, ready to run in and stop the fight that was about to happen.

Ron and, surprisingly, Justin both held her back. Ron said, "Don't worry. They're not actually going to fight... er, I mean fight like Malfoy was going to back there. It's a brother thing, don't worry about it," he added to her incredulous look.

"Malfoy is an idiot," Hermione snapped. "It was clear that he had no clue how to actually fight someone. Not that I do, or would ever fight someone of course, but it is quite clear that Harry and apparently his entire family are very familiar with fighting and when they fight they expect to do it with their bare fists, not with wands or weapons. Why aren't we stopping this?!"

While this little diatribe was going on, Harry and Gohan were sizing each other up, neither moving to attack or retreat any further than they already had, but both in ready stances, prepared to attack and defend equally. They were also powering up, slowly, and not by very much. Like Ron said, it was a brother thing, they weren't actually going to fight it out.

Just... spar a little bit.

"Uh, Hermione, I'm not following where you are going with this," said Neville, confused expression on his face.

"My point is, well, was," she said as apparently she had somehow gotten away from the point, "to, er, well... to not make rash decisions and that if one must fight, then they need to have a plan ahead of time, before the first punch is even thrown! To just rush in and start slinging fists and spells and beating on each other is—is—is _BARBARIC_! _And why are you two still going to fight_?!"

"We're not fighting," said Gohan, false-innocence dripping from every syllable.

"We're training," agreed Harry, same insincerity in his voice.

With that said, they decided that was enough waiting and launched themselves at each other.

Their first encounter was actually more of a chance to test their respective speed compared to the last time they had sparred. So both threw punches—that went through each others after images. Then they reappeared ten feet above their previous position and launched flying kicks—that also went through each others after images. After the third time it happened, Hermione could no longer remain silent.

"What... what... what—what—" she paused, licked her lips and swallowed, before taking a deep breath and screaming at the top of her lungs, "—WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS HAPPENING HERE?! HOW ARE THEY—HOW IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE?!"

"Language, Hermione," Ron chastised her, grinning and fully enjoying the moment even as he watched the fight between brothers. She ignored him entirely, save to shoot him a scathing look.

The fighting brothers likewise ignored her outburst. Quite often there were loud noises, bright flashes, and other distracting events on the battle field. Not to mention a group of people on the side lines running commentary. They both had long since trained themselves to ignore such distractions, while also acknowledging them and making sure it wasn't an incoming attack. Of course it wasn't perfect, but it also helped that they were dozens of meters in the air, so her shout really wasn't that loud by the time it reached them.

"Uh, Hermione, a little quieter, maybe?" Justin begged, hands over his ears.

Ron just casually rubbed the ear closest to Hermione, cleaning out some ear wax buildup. He was used to such volumes from the females around him, in fact his mother could go a few decibels higher, so it didn't much affect him. In the mean time he tried to focus on the fight.

Harry and Gohan had finally gotten a read on each others speed and stopped playing the after image game. Their first true blows came as they landed back on the ground, bodies taut, ki flames burning. Their forearms slammed into one another as they tried to knock the other back through sheer force. They stayed locked there for several precious seconds, arcs of power, looking like small lightning bolts, shooting off from where their energies interacted.

When it became clear that Gohan had the advantage in raw strength, Harry adjusted his stance slightly so that when he suddenly leaned back, he slid to the side as Gohan became over extended. A mistake that the young half-Saiyan quickly remedied, but not before Harry managed to take advantage of it by slamming a knee below his guard just a half a second faster than Gohan could block. The result, Gohan knocked back, the wind knocked out of him, and Harry jumping away before retaliation, but also to get an angle on another attack.

"Not bad," Gohan said, rubbing the spot where he'd been hit. "You've gotten faster."

"And you got even stronger than you already were," Harry added to that. "What, did Dad have you lifting and running with boulders bigger than the house while you were waiting for your turn to spar with him?"

"Uh..." Gohan looked away sheepishly, before shaking his head and focusing on the fight.

"Seriously?!" Harry yelled, incredulous.

Gohan just shrugged.

"And I'd thought what I was having the rest of them do might have been extreme," Harry sighed, rolling his eyes.

Then they resumed as though they hadn't stopped at all. A flash of movement and a sound of flesh slapping but a thousand times louder was the only way those on the sidelines had of tracking the brothers fight. Sometimes, rarely, Ron thought he managed to see the point of impact and a sort of explosion or pressure wave coming from it, but it was too inconsistent to be sure of. Sometimes they saw more after-images, but even those were barely visible.

"How is this... how can they... how can we even... OH MY GOD! THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE!" Hermione finally screamed, grabbing and pulling at her hair.

"Uh, Hermione," Justin pointed out, "since they're kind of doing it, I would say it is not impossible. We just don't know how to do it ourselves yet."

"Then why don't they bloody well explain it already?!" she screamed, tearing her hands away from her hair, probably taking a few follicles with it.

"Don't blink."

"What?" the three of them asked, turning to look at the one that spoke.

"Don't blink," Neville repeated, his eyes dancing all over the place. "And channel your ki, not to your eyes, but to the part of your mind that lets you focus on fast flying things. And then just don't blink and let your eyes kind of relax. It just... happens after that. I'm—I'm still having trouble keeping up, but I can follow them... sort of..."

"Harry told you about this, didn't he?" Ron grumbled.

Neville just shrugged, not answering, and not taking his rapidly moving eyes off the sky.

Speeding things up about a hundred and fifty times, if one were to talk shutter speed on a camera that is, Harry and Gohan were hovering about fifteen feet up, exchanging punches and blocks and kicks faster than even 150x could catch only as vague color blurs. From their own point of view, however, they were perceiving the same as they always had, just acting and reacting so fast that all the color blurring and after-image and vanishing wasn't even noticed. They knew exactly what their bodies were doing and all that visual input was only a part of what their bodies, their ears, and their senses were telling them.

It wasn't just knowing when and where the opponent was throwing a punch or a kick, it was acknowledging that the punch was coming, had already come, and focusing on what you were doing next. It got a lot more complicated the faster things got, because it wasn't just 'next' you had to think about, but all the 'next's for the next minute or more while also anticipating all of the other guy's 'next's as well.

So, slowing things down by about a thousand times 150x, one would see Harry throw a roundhouse punch at Gohan's face, which he was already blocking with his opposing hand and in the middle of launching a prepared straight punch to the solar plexus, only to have Harry's left leg come up to knock it to the side by just an inch or so even as his first punch was blocked before wrapping his other hand around the straight punching fist and twist to turn his failed punch into an elbow, still to the face. Gohan instantly retaliated by spinning around mid-air to try and throw Harry off, and when that didn't work he tilted his head just enough to the side to avoid the striking elbow and turned his blocking hand into an open palm strike to Harry's face, who blocked it by retrieving the striking elbow as though that had been his intention the whole time even as he brought his right knee up to kick Gohan in the kidneys. The first of these kidney shots landed, but Gohan brought his own elbow down to prevent any follow up shots, using the momentum to put his free hand in position for another straight punch, while Harry maintained his grip on the first fist and actually added his own power to their spinning in the air, but also adding a bit of a vertical axis to get them spinning in more than just one direction. Finally they both had enough and Harry threw Gohan's trapped fist away at the same moment he threw his next punch, launching them both away from each other at high velocity, leaving them to tumble through the air for a bit until they could stabilize and orient themselves. Rather than locking onto the horizon, or the sun, or the ground or some other stable monument in the area, they focused all their attention onto their opponent and trusted their body to keep up with them. It helped stave off the vertigo.

Once they were locked on, they shot through the air as fast as their ki could push them, arrowing in on an attack angle towards their opponent. As was typical for these types of engagements, they flew at full speed and met and tried to hit the other with their fastest and strongest attack, usually a punch or a kick. And then both their momentum and their own energy would carry them on past and they would reorient for another flyby attack. This would continue until one or the other succeeded in arresting the others momentum, or landed a significant enough attack that it forced them to stop flying around and stay stationary enough for another mid-air brawl that either escalated things further, or knocked one of them out of the air. All the momentary flashes and explosions of noise and energy were usually these flyby attacks, and the after images of the brawls were when enough momentum had been arrested to warrant aforementioned mid-air brawl.

Overall, the fight was going the way it usually did for the brothers. It would stay mostly even between them as far as technique and skill went, allowing the deciding factor to remain with the other two tiers of power; strength and speed. While Gohan was indeed stronger, despite his work at gaining those extra few seconds of speed, Harry was faster and his reactions were just a touch quicker than his brother's. So when Gohan hit, it did a lot more damage than when Harry did, but by the same token, Harry was getting in about three times as many hits as Gohan was, yet those hits were often deflected or countered at the last moment, negating most of the damage.

Endurance, however, while not recognized as being one of the pillars of fighting, is actually the ultimate pedestal upon which those pillars are raised. And that was something else that Gohan had in advantage to his brother.

Soon, Harry was spending more time dodging than blocking or attacking, and his breathing was clearly more labored than it had been before. Gohan, other than some bruising and some dirt stains, still looked like he was fresh and good to go. And then Harry started to slow down. It wasn't obvious, not at first, but the interval between Gohan attacking and Harry dodging was getting smaller with every passing moment.

Then, very sudden and with no warning at all, which is the way things go in fights, Gohan flashed in behind Harry and landed a flurry of blows to his back, which he immediately followed up with a kick to the gut to send him higher into the air, before slamming him with a double-fisted blow to the back, sending him shooting to the ground where he landed with a tremendous explosion of dirt and dust.

"Harry!" all his friends cried out, racing to check on him.

"Stay back!" he ordered, stopping them in their tracks. As the dust settled, they could see Harry standing there in a small human sized crater, sweating and dirtier than before, and also a bit out of breath. "It's not over yet!"

"So you really want to take it that far for just a spar?" Gohan taunted, a smile on his face. He was also sweating, a bit dirty but not as much as Harry, and he was not out of breath at all. He was also still some twenty feet in the air across from his brother.

"One salvo, to see who really is stronger," Harry decided. He then began powering up and gathering energy for an attack. Gohan likewise began doing the same from his position in the sky. Brilliant coronas of energy erupted around both boys and began to burn erratically before stabilizing into the familiar clear ki flames they were used to seeing.

"What are they doing?" Ron cried out, covering his face from the wind and dust caused by the two ki fighters powering up quite significantly.

"They're gathering energy!" Hermione yelled, also trying to cover her face, her bushy brown hair flying wildly in the wind. "A _lot_ of energy! More than I could imagine!"

"You can sense their energy!?" Justin exclaimed, using only one hand to cover his eyes as he looked at Hermione. She merely nodded her head rather than answer as it was more than self-evident in her opinion.

"Let's see what you got!" Harry shouted out, putting both his hands out to the sides, palms outward, red-orange energy gathering in them.

"Should be interesting to see what exactly you've learned here at magic school!" Gohan retorted, raising both hands above his head and gathering a massive amount of orange-yellow energy there.

Incanting their attacks at the same moment, they both fired their respective multi-spectrum energy beams at the other.

" _ **TENSHI-KAAA**_!" Harry screamed, and brought both hands together in front of him, arms still straight. A spiraling red-orange beam of energy shot straight at Gohan in the air.

" _ **MASENKO-HAAA**_!" Gohan screamed, bringing his hands down and a blinding mostly yellow beam of energy shot straight down at Harry.

The beams of energy intersected, and then clashed at the midpoint between the two fighting brothers. At the point of impact, the collision of energy was similar to shooting two fire hoses at each other so the streams collide. Only instead of water, it was ki energy that was 'splashing' away from the center. From the reactions of the two boys, however, they may as well have been pushing against the other with their bare hands. Harry wasn't even driven back into the soil, nor was Gohan further into the air.

Those witness to this phenomena could only stare in wide-eyed amazement. The force of energy being generated by two eleven-year-olds was awesome, and terrifying at the same time. If not for the blinding white explosion at the center of it, one could almost believe that the red and yellow beams of light were one in the same given how stable and steady the two fighters were keeping them. In fact it looked as though they were at a stalemate, neither able to overpower the other.

And then, slowly, inch by inch, the red beam began to push back against the yellow beam. Unaware of the strain this was putting on their friend, nor just how much power he would have to wield to even begin to do something like that, Harry's friends were blissfully ignorant of all that, only aware that it meant their friend was winning.

Gohan, feeling the feedback along his own attack, knew that he was being pushed back. By the time the central 'explosion' had gone a full foot closer to him, he began to sweat. Pulling out even more power, he pushed it all into his energy attack, grating out between his teeth, "Oh... No... You... Don't... _**HA**_!"

Suddenly, there was a surge of power along the yellow beam, it actually looked like a bulge traveling down it to the point of impact, where it very quickly overwhelmed the red beam and began to push down on it at twice the speed it had been pushing already. Harry instantly felt the effects and slid back down to the center of the crater he'd made with his body earlier, and then made it a bit deeper as he tried to extend his energy out to get some better leverage, widening the crater and pushing it a few more inches into the soil.

The added leverage helped him regain his footing and once he had that, he stopped holding back on his own power. This time the bulge came from the red side, and it actually looked more like a series of bulges that spun themselves around and drilled back into the yellow beam until the bulging explosion was back in the exact center between the two.

Both of them gritted their teeth and metaphorically speaking dug their heels in. Of course they were not trying to destroy each other, but ever since they'd learned how, they'd been testing each other like this since they were kids. Er... younger kids. Sibling rivalry and all that, each one wanting to be the best, that sort of thing.

"They are going to kill each other at this rate!" Hermione screamed over the wind and energy of the ongoing attack. "We have to stop them!"

"Brilliant!" Ron shouted back at her. "And how do you propose we do that?"

While the boys had moved their fight further away from the school, they were still within sight of it, and something like an energy clash on the level that the two were fighting at is rather hard not to notice from so close a distance. From his tower window, Professor Dumbledore had a near perfect view of the clash, and the distance made no matter for something of this caliber. Besides, among the many shiny and metallic instruments in his office, one just so happened to be a telescope.

Witnessing Harry Pot—er, Son and his brother, Gohan Son, get reacquainted with a quick spar, the old wizard found himself popping lemon drops (laced with the strongest calming draught known to wizard kind) like they were about to be taken from him forever. He was suddenly filled with regret over caving in to the demands of Mrs. Chichi Son, although he freely admitted to himself that if she were to suddenly show up or make any further demands of him, he would cave all over again. There were just some people—women—that it is entirely pointless to argue with, and that woman was one of them. She could probably give Molly Weasley lessons in how to yell and berate someone.

Albus Dumbledore suddenly shivered with incalculable dread at the mere thought of Chichi Son _actually_ teaching Molly Weasley exactly that. Then he downed the rest of his supply of laced lemon drops in one go and got ready for his dinner announcement.

Harry and Gohan were still pouring it on strong against one another, staying mostly even the entire time, with a bit of back and forth here and there. Unfortunately, as the case with their physical fight before, Harry found himself running into the wall of his own endurance, and from his point of view, and experience, he knew that Gohan still had plenty of energy left to pull out.

Not wanting to be bed ridden for the rest of the day, the younger brother finally signaled his defeat by cutting power to his attack and launching himself into the air as fast as he could. He was still caught in the explosion of Gohan's attack hitting the ground, but not as much as if it had actually hit him. As it were, the force of the blast knocked him out of the sky, and when gravity reasserted itself over him, the explosion had already passed and he landed in soft, if burned, dirt at the bottom of the now much deeper crater. Fortunately, the dust cleared much quicker this time, mostly from the energy of the blast itself clearing it all from the air.

A little out of breath now, and definitely sweating, Gohan slowly lowered himself to the ground, wiping his brow with the back of one hand, saying, "Whew! Good work out bro. Glad to see that you really have been keeping up with your training."

"Heh, yeah, you say that now," Harry groaned from the middle of the crater he'd been blasted into. Weakly, he slowly pushed himself up to his feet. While he always went all out in his training, there was never quite anything like having a strong opponent to work against. Shooting a dirty look at his brother, he said while holding his ribs, "After knocking me around and pounding me into the ground. I need to work on my endurance training."

"Yeah, you do, but now I'm here so I can help with that!" Gohan laughed.

"Harry!" Hermione screamed as she came running up to him. "What happened? Are you all right? How did this happen?" Then she rounded on Gohan and pointed at him. "And you! What did you think you were doing? Doing this to your own brother?"

Instinctively, Gohan cringed from the girl that was eerily reminding him of his mother on the warpath. Harry, on the other hand, quite used to Hermione's nature by now, laughed and shrugged off her concerns.

"I'm fine, Hermione," he said before wincing as one rib in particular gave a sharper pinch than he'd been expecting. "Well... No, fine is right. I'll be perfectly healthy in time for classes, so don't worry, OK? And as for Gohan, he did what we both said he was going to do, he gave me my first decent spar since I came here."

"He nearly killed you!" she screeched. "I mean, look at you!"

"Yeah, my own fault, I suppose," Harry shrugged, already walking back up to the castle. "I should have retreated for a bit and made you work for it more. Instead I kept pushing and tired myself out too quickly."

"How can you be fine with this?!" she demanded.

"She always like this?" Gohan whispered to his brother, somewhat concerned.

Harry shook his head, "Nah, she's just overwrought right now. I think she mostly thought of all this as just a different kind of magic to learn, rather than acknowledge it's about fighting."

"Oh, well OK, I can understand that," he said in reply.

"What about the rest of you?! You cannot be OK with these two trying to kill each other like this?" she turned on the others walking along behind them.

Ron and Justin both shrugged. Ron had his brothers, while Justin had seen his fair share of schoolyard fist fights. They were both a little stunned at the level at which Harry and Gohan had fought, but the overall concept was familiar and normal to them. Neville was keeping his mouth shut and his eyes down.

"Gaaahh!" Hermione yelled in frustration. "Boys!"

"Ignore her," Harry said. "Come on Gohan, let me show you around. I'll introduce you to our teachers."

"Awesome bro!"

The two then ran off for the castle, staying on the ground at least.

"Do not ignore me!" she yelled as she chased after them.

"Uh, should we go after them?" Neville asked Ron and Justin after they'd been left standing beside the crater.

The redhead and brunette exchanged glances, before looking back at the dark haired boy and said nothing before turning and running to catch up with their friends. Rather than say anything more, Neville merely started running and soon caught up with them. He had been keeping up with his training at the least.

 _Great Hall_

 _Dinner_

It was now dinner time at Hogwarts. Usually dinner, like lunch and breakfast, was very casual, students coming in during a set number of hours, sitting at their respective tables, and the moment they do so the main course of the meal would magically appear before them. The buffet style of the holiday (and opening and closing) feasts were reserved only for those times. The rest of the year, each student got exact proportions of whatever was slotted for that meal and day. Hence why the Weasley Twins were so popular for being able to sneak out extra food from the Kitchens for midnight snacks.

Dinner time was also the point at which any announcements not made during breakfast were usually made. And it just so happened that the Headmaster did indeed have some announcements to make. Therefore, before dinner was actually served, the Headmaster called the Great Hall to order and made his announcement.

"If I may have everyone's attention for a moment please?" Professor Dumbledore said in that slow, cantering way of his where everyone is talking loudly among themselves when he begins speaking and by the time he finishes the question they are all quiet and attentively listening to what he has to say. "Thank you so much."

"Just a few quick announcements and then I shall allow you all to return to your fabulous fellowship and mouthwatering meal," he said so sincerely that the thought of sarcasm did not once enter anyone's heads. Gesturing to the area in front of the Head Table, everyone finally took notice that the stool usually reserved for First Years at the start of the Sorting Ceremony was in place and Professor McGonagall was there with the Sorting Hat.

"Firstly," the Headmaster announced, "due in large part to a suitably large donation on behalf of the Fire Mountain Kingdom, and in no small part to the first student in living memory who was Sorted as a Student of Hogwarts rather than into one of the Four Houses, this year marks the presentation of an opportunity the likes of which has never been seen before in the Wizarding World. Although, I do admit the practice has been ongoing in the rest of the world for a number of years now. The practice of which I speak is the concept of, I believe the term is _Exchange Students_. Therefore, it is without further ado that I present the first ever exchange students to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." He then turned the floor over to Professor McGonagall.

"Delacour, Fleur," she pronounced.

Everyone, those not stunned by the Headmaster's announcement that is, began looking about, trying to see if they could identify this mysterious person that would be starting school with them, a month late into the year. Rather than from the four tables already present, the side door, from which the Professors usually entered and exited the Great Hall, opened and out came the most stunning and beautiful fourteen-year-old girl any of them had ever seen before. She was tall and willowy, with an air of grace that made her seem like she was gliding when she was walking and her very presence seemed to emanate a faint, silvery glow. She had long beautiful hair of silvery blonde, large, deep blue eyes, fair skin, a petite frame and very white, even teeth. She also wore a set of casual, periwinkle blue robes rather than the standard Hogwarts School Uniform robes.

With no further prompting, she made her way to the stool. Every eye... well, every _male_ eye in the room was practically glued to her as she passed, and in her wake, she left content sighs, puddles of drool, and whimpering simpletons, oh and a lot of pissed off girls.

Harry himself felt an odd pull towards her, and he had absolutely no idea why. He'd never really come across an opponent that resorted to hypnotism and mesmerizing him before, so he had no prepared defense. When the odd impulse to slaughter all the other men, and boys, in the room just to impress her came across his mind though, that snapped him out of it enough to realize what was happening and actually try fighting it... whatever _it_ was. He did not have very much luck, unfortunately.

And then Professor McGonagall put the Sorting Hat on her head, perhaps a bit more roughly than she usually did, and just like that the odd attraction to the girl vanished, and even that glow around her had diminished some. Everybody immediately started whispering among themselves as they tried to figure out what had just happened.

The Hat stayed on the girl for nearly two minutes, but finally it 'cleared its throat' and yelled out for the whole school to hear, "RAVENCLAW!"

The table of brainiacs erupted with joy, well—half the table anyway. One might have thought they'd won the House Cup with the addition of Fleur Delacour to their ranks. She smiled briefly at them and slowly made her way to the part of the table that held people her own age, making sure to sit amongst the girls there, despite the many offers of the men to give up their seats. Harry noted that the moment the Hat was off her head, the... the... the _allure_ she gave off came back as strong as ever. He would have to figure out some kind of defense for it, he decided, that is if he could keep his head on straight long enough to do so. It was all he could do to keep from leaving Gryffindor table where he was sat for the evening to Ravenclaw table!

"Krum, Viktor!" Professor McGonagall called the next exchange student.

He came from the same side door Fleur had. From what Harry could see of him, Viktor was a tall, thin, sallow young man with dark hair and eyes. He had a large curved nose, a sharp profile, and thick black eyebrows. He was round-shouldered and duck-footed while walking. But Harry could see the potential in his gait that he was probably quicker than first looks said. Also, he too was wearing casual robes rather than the Hogwarts School Uniform, his being black and red.

With no hesitation, or even a glance at the rest of the room, overall looking rather grumpy at even having to be there in the first place, he walked over to the stool and sat down. Professor McGonagall gently put the Sorting Hat on his head and took a step back, which was odd only because no one had ever seen her do that before while Sorting students.

After less than a minute, but not instantaneous, the Sorting Hat yelled out, "SLYTHERIN!"

There was polite applause from the table of silver snakes, not nearly the raucous noise made over Fleur's appointment, but most of them seemed to already know who the fourteen-year-old boy was and were glad to have him. Given that he went straight to another pair of fourteen-year-old boys rather than spend any time looking for places to sit, seemed to support the assumption.

Everyone looked back to Professor McGonagall, and were struck by the oddness of her sighing, not in relief but in acknowledgment of the inevitable. She then read the final name.

"Son, Gohan."

Instant quiet across the entire Great Hall. While Gohan had indeed made quite an entrance, the only ones there to really witness it and be introduced to him were Harry's close friends, and Draco Malfoy, who had spent most of the afternoon in the Hospital Wing. It was getting to be such a common occurrence for him, Madam Pomphrey was talking about putting a plaque up on one of the beds; 'Reserved For Draco Malfoy'.

Everyone looked to the side door, but it remained shut. Instead, Gohan stood up from beside his brother and calmly walked down the aisle from Gryffindor table. Standing before the Professor, he wasn't quite sure what to do, despite having watched Fleur and Viktor go before him. Finally, she said to him, "Have a seat, Mister Son. This won't take but a moment."

He sat down on the stool, facing the rest of the student body. Just before she could put the Hat on his head, however, there was a soft, but distinct cough from behind them. Turning, Professor McGonagall saw the Headmaster shooting her a meaningful glare. She pulled back the Sorting Hat.

"Mister Son," the Headmaster stood, speaking to the seated boy. Turning to look over his shoulder, Gohan shot the old wizard an innocent look of curiosity. "Two things, very quickly and then this will all be over and you can return to your meal, I assure you. First, while I do appreciate that it is the weekend and not required, it would be greatly appreciated if you came to meals in the Great Hall in your school robes. Also, freshly washed and cleaned would be even more appreciated than that. And second, and perhaps more importantly, am I to assume that, like your brother, you too have developed Occlumency protections?"

At Gohan's look of confusion, he quickly elaborated. "What I mean to say is, that you have defenses in your mind that prevent others from reading your thoughts without your permission?"

"Oh, yeah, that. Yes, I do sir," Gohan answered respectfully. "Harry taught me how he did it and after a while I mastered it to the same level he did."

"Ah, as I suspected," the Headmaster nodded. "I'm afraid I must ask, Mister Son, if you would please drop those defenses for the duration of the Sorting? The Sorting Hat looks through your mind to find the best qualities to which you fit, and in order to do so, as we found out the hard way with your brother, if you do not have your defenses lowered and allow the Sorting Hat to do its work, you risk damaging it. So, Mister Son, will you allow the Sorting Hat to Sort you by looking through your mind?"

Gohan frowned for a second, and then he just shrugged and smiled at the old wizard and said happily, "Sure! I don't mind!"

Half the people in the Great Hall would swear they saw the Sorting Hat in Professor McGonagall's hands let out a sigh of relief. Then she placed it atop Gohan's head and there it remained. For twenty-eight and a half minutes.

After that amount of time had passed, even the Sorting Hat seemed to have had enough as it cried out loud enough for them all to hear. "Oh for Merlin's sake! THIS STUDENT IS A STUDENT OF HOGWARTS! So mote it be!"

There was practically a collective groan from the entire school at that announcement. The only one not groaning, but cheering was Gohan's brother, Harry.

"Woohoo! Yeah! All right Gohan!" he cried while clapping and whistling his appreciation.

Once the Hat was off his head, Gohan leaped up off the stool, paused to bow to both Professor McGonagall, who was holding the Hat again, and Professor Dumbledore, before running back down to his seat next to his brother. Getting a shrug from her supervisor and employer, the Transfiguration Teacher just picked up the stool and carted it back to wherever it was kept the rest of the year when not being used for Sortings.

"So," Ron said between mouthfuls and swallowing, "I don't get it. Is there something about your family, or is it just because you both can use ki?"

"What do you mean, Ron?" Harry asked between his own mouthfuls. Gohan was equally gorging himself on the dinner food options.

"Both of you weren't sorted into any of the four houses," Ron replied as though that were answer enough.

Apparently it wasn't, as both Son brothers shot him a confused look before Harry responded with, "Yeah, and?"

"Well, you heard the Professor," Ron said, "It's never happened before that there was a student of Hogwarts without also being in one of the Four Houses."

"No, that's not what he said."

Everyone at the table turned and looked at the speaker, surprised. Neville briefly cowered away from the glances, but seeing the look on Ron's face, as well as the encouraging look on Harry's, he gathered his courage and continued. "On the night Harry was sorted, he said that while he could not remember it happening, the Sorting Hat itself told him there had been precedent. That means that it has happened before that there were students that were not sorted into one of the four houses. Just not... you know, recently. Like... in the past hundred years or so."

"Oh," Ron mumbled, swallowing his last bite. "Still, doesn't change my question. How come you two didn't get sorted into any of the houses?"

"Well, I don't know about Harry," Gohan answered, "But when it was on my head, it spent a long time going through all my memories. Then, after it was done with that, it asked me where I wanted to go. I had no clue what it was talking about, so I asked if it could explain how the whole Housing system works in the first place. That took a long time too, but after it was finished, I still couldn't decide, and then it told me that it could tell how I would turn out based on which of the four houses I went to. So I asked it to do that, and then it was quiet for maybe a minute or two, it was hard to tell, but eventually it told me that it didn't matter which of them I went to, it would be the same result either way. I would be the same person, know the same people, and learn the same magic and skills and be just as powerful. That's when it kind of lost its patience and asked me again where I wanted to go. So I just answered honestly."

They all looked at him expectantly, waiting for the answer that he had given the Sorting Hat.

Smiling, Gohan told them, "I said I just wanted to go with my brother!"

Blushing, Harry shook his head and focused on his meal.

"That's when it said what it did to the whole school," Gohan finished with a shrug.

"Blimey," Ron shook his head, disbelieving. "Ginny's not going to believe this when I tell her about this later. For that matter, neither will Mum or Dad!"

"Who's Ginny?" Gohan asked.

"Ron's baby sister," Harry answered for his friend. "He's also got five older brothers, two of which have already graduated. The other redheads at this table are his other brothers."

"Oh, cool!" Gohan grinned.

The rest of the evening was spent introducing Gohan around. As expected, even before he'd arrived, the Headmaster assigned Gohan to the same room as Harry and entrusted the more experienced student to show his brother around. Seeing that they still had an extra day before classes resumed, Harry promised to catch Gohan up on all their classes the following day. That night, however, after showing him how to get to their room of course, he then showed him the rest of the castle. In particular the big dog and all the stuff under the trap door at the end of the corridor on the third floor. After that, he then took him up to the seventh floor and showed him the awesome training room that he'd been using every night since the first of September. They spent the rest of the night putting that amazing training room through its paces and only went to bed when the days activities finally caught up to them.

Fortunately, Gohan had developed the same sleeping habits that Harry had over the years. The brothers both went to bed with smiles on their faces, their dreams filled with anticipation.

END "Episode 8: Hogwarts Guests"

(Author's Notes:

OK, perhaps I should have clarified on my statement last chapter regarding the "DBZ Rule on magic". As you've now read, you all have gotten a minor glimpse of how I plan on, heh, ' _weaponizing_ ' HP Magic to be effective in a DBZ level fight. Some have 'requested' or made additional suggestions on, ironically enough, a number of the tactics and plot devices that I utilize in future chapters. I beg for your patience, as I truly believe they'll be worth the wait.

Regardless, I do understand just how... _effective_ HP Magic can be in a fight. Nevertheless, go through the entirety of each Dragonball series, and y'know what I found? While the "magicians" were indeed _powerful_ , none of them were the * _Fighters_ *! No, they had others doing the fighting, either for them, or just with their support or 'empowerment' as several denoted, but I can't think of one character who fought on the front lines either with or against Goku and the Z Fighters, whose primary ability was * _magic_ *. Ergo, my statement that this version of Harry Potter is unique, because he * _IS_ * going to be using " _Magic_ " as his primary ability and he'll also be fighting on the front lines, rather than behind the scenes or with some other fighter as his champion (Example: Babidi).

To _KongKing94_ ; Thank you for the Voldemort outline. Believe me, I'm not going to 'nerf' (I believe that is the correct term) the Big Bad. His threat level will be raised to meet Harry's additional strength and power, I assure you. I'm also kind of proud that as... bad or devastating as all the suggestions have been for ways to "power up" Voldemort and his Death Eaters, what I have outlined for the future sagas is * _ **SO**_ * much worse! :D

To _Ikki_ ; To answer your first question, No. Not within the confines of the Hogwarts Saga anyway. I'm really hoping that Toriyama allows the story to focus a bit more on Gohan and his "Mystic Transformation" in the upcoming DBseries, because all it really _does_ is give him a clear ki-flame and apparently a power level to equal—not rival—Super Saiyan 3. And Buu still beat him in the end... (grumbling) And, no offense to you or anyone else, but after the first, maybe two episodes of the anime, I just don't watch Negima at all. I'm all for a harem-comedy anime, but the things that kid got up to... (shakes head) ...No, I will not be employing _any_ magic sourced in _'Negima! Magister Negi Magi_ '. Might draw from some things like _Nanoha_ , _Cardcaptor Sakura_ , or even SyFy's _The Magicians_ , but definitely not _Negima_.

Oh, and as far as Mirai Trunks meeting/knowing Harry, well I was planning on revealing it 'In-Story', but that would actually be a lot longer away than I first thought, so here goes:

In the "original timeline" that Mirai Trunks is from, Goku came back and defeated Frieza and King Cold after they'd run rampant for a little while, because Super Saiyan Trunks wasn't there to greet them. Then, life went on for a while. Harry Son, still raised by Goku an Chi-Chi, was accepted to Hogwarts, and there was no looming threat of Androids or anything, so Harry went off to England, alone, and he made up his mind at some point in his First Year away from home, to leave behind Fighting and focus on Magic instead. He never trained any other students, in fact he allowed his own skills to atrophy quite severely over the seven years he was at Hogwarts, going home only during the summers. When the Androids showed up, Harry was not on the front lines, instead, he remained in a 'support role' much as Bulma and Master Roshi and the rest were. Of course, Goku had died due to a heart condition before that, so in the end, Harry spent more and more time in the Wizarding World, and focusing on protecting what remained of Humanity from the devastation of the Androids by helping the survivors hide the same way Wizards had remained hidden for over a thousand years. When Gohan lost his arm, Harry tried to get him a magical replacement, or even to heal it with magic, but Gohan refused, the two brothers in a silent feud over the loss of their parents. After Gohan was killed by the 17 and 18, Harry abandoned the remains of the Wizarding World and started training himself and the newly Super Saiyan Trunks anew. Mirai Harry can use magic the same as the Z Fighters use ki, able to toss out complex spells with ease, and he's as strong and as fast as Super Saiyan Gohan, thanks to a number of magical rituals he underwent after the death of his brother. When Mirai Trunks traveled back in time with Bulma's time machine, he was only able to do so thanks to Mirai Harry holding off the Androids long enough for him to get away. When Mirai Trunks returns, (hopefully?) after defeating the Androids and Cell, he'll find out whether or not Mirai Harry survived... or not.

To _ZWarrior4life_ : Interesting proposal, certainly, but... not as such. Individually, sure, probably on most of those things actually. Let's see here; super strength, covered by Ki. Both 'Not Quite' and 'Actual' Flight, also covered by Ki, specifically the Crane Style Flight technique that Tien and Chaozhou first showed Goku back in the original Dragonball series. Self-Duplication, aka Tien's and Piccolo's Split/Clone Technique, although it does divide the user's power by however many copies they make. "Enlightenment Super Power" sounds like... well, like the power to manipulate and control one's own Life Force? IE, "Ki". Harry will actually take it a step beyond into being able to do the same with his Magic. Which, actually would fit in with the next item of "Archmage", wouldn't it? Shapeshifting. Hm, no plans on full "shape-changing", but recall back in the Transfiguration Class section of the chapter "Hogwarts Classes"? Professor McGonagall promised to personally teach the Animagus transformation to whichever student performed the best in her class while maintaining at least an A-average in all their other classes. I'll take it a step beyond into, heh, "numerous" magical transformations, but consider that bit of foreshadowing revealed. Mind over matter, and there were numerous examples of ki manipulation allowing for just what you're describing here; telekinesis, etc, all of it. As for the signature weapon, you refer to the "Power Bo" which Goku has long sense passed onto Gohan. Harry won't be using it. I've replaced "Magic Eyes" with "Ki Sense", which is a little more reliable and far more versatile, imho. And Harry is still a Parseltongue. No current plans on him talking to other animals. Yet.

OK, unless there is a significant reason to do so, this is gonna be the last "Author's Note" for a while. In looking over just this piece, I've added an extra three pages and over a thousand more words to this chapter than initially planned. So, please make use of FF Net's PM tool, and I'll do what I can to reply to any inquiries, or challenges, you might have that would require a response. Until next month,

Thank You For Reading, Please Review, And ENJOY!)


	9. Hogwarts Halloween 1

Episode 9: "Hogwarts Halloween (Part 1)"

The month of October was the absolute best month of his time spent at Hogwarts, Harry decided when said month was mostly over. Although, to be fair, he'd only spent a total of two months at Hogwarts so far, but still the sentiment remained the same. Most of that could be laid at the feet of his brother being there with him, although there were a few other things that made it great too.

For starters, Gohan was actually put into the same class schedule that Harry was, well except for Runes, Arithmancy and Charms that is. In the first two cases, that was because Harry was in the OWL prep courses for Arithmancy instead of standard 3rd Year Arithmancy, and instead of Ancient Runes Gohan elected to take Care of Magical Creatures. As for Charms, Gohan's appointment to Hogwarts was rather sudden and he hadn't had time to go back to Diagon Alley to get most of his supplies. As it was, that weekend when he'd arrived, rather than having Sunday off, Professor Dumbledore took him to Hogsmeade and the shopping center there to pick up an off-the-rack school uniform, as well as second hand books for all his courses, and other supplies.

Unfortunately, for all Hogwarts students, there really was only Ollivander's for wands, and none of the teachers could take the time to escort him all the way to Diagon Alley. Despite both Gohan's and Harry's maturity for their age, none of the adults were about to trust two eleven-year-olds to essentially go to another country, hundreds of miles away, to a busy shopping center in the middle of a city home to millions of people, completely unsupervised, all just to buy one item.

So Gohan did not have a wand.

For most of his classes, this was not a huge issue, all it meant was that he could not participate in the practical for Charms, Transfiguration, or Defense Against The Dark Arts. Therefore, Charms, for Gohan, was an official Study hall period, where he was expected to do other work, though he was still allowed to be in the room, he did not actually participate in class. For practically everything else, wand work was supplementary, not required, and there was plenty of theory behind the other three courses to help the Professors in their grading of the exchange student. At least, that is what they were told and what they believed.

One day, while Gohan was sitting off to the side in Charms class, Harry offered his brother his wand, just to see if maybe it might work for him. Let's just say, it was universally decided at that point they would wait until Ollivander's before allowing Gohan to so much as touch another wand, and leave it at that. This coming from the children of a man who can—and knows other people that can—destroy the entire planet if they wanted to.

At the same time, however, and part of Chichi's concession to even allowing Gohan to go to a magic school rather than a typical boarding school, was that he had to continue his Home Schooling studies. IE, standard Math, History, Science, and Languages. The first time the owl came bearing books and packets of homework and tests, the brothers thought there must be some mistake, as a lot of it was duplicated. Then they found their mother's letter that pretty much said Harry had to maintain at least a C average in the core subjects of his own Home Schooling courses, otherwise the both of them were going to regret it. They had a feeling she'd left it intentionally vague not because she wasn't sure of the punishment, but because their imaginations of the punishment would pale in comparison to what it would actually end up being.

Fortunately, the brothers had discovered an interesting way of training at night. While doing push-ups, pull-ups, and other calisthenics, it was easy to read from the open book on the ground, or to use their ki to float the book and turn the pages and even write the answers with pencils. Although if they weren't extra careful, more often than not their ki wound up blowing up or breaking the pencils. Then, when they were done with that day's homework, they went and helped Mister Filch with his chores around the castle before heading off to the awesome training room on the seventh floor. So, all said and done, it wasn't a bad training routine at all.

They got to work on their control and endurance (or speed for Gohan) during the day, and then the power and strength training at night, between which they also improved their minds.

Speaking of daily training, the rest of the student population suddenly found more to do with their free time besides make gossip and prank each other. Not that the Weasley Twins didn't try and maintain their weekly quota, of course. Now that Harry was no longer holding 'mandatory' training on ki during the morning, afternoon, and weekends, the stellar progress most of those he'd trained had stagnated.

Draco Malfoy was running around all the age groups of Slytherin House, and even approaching lone individuals of the other three Houses, yes even Gryffindor, and offering to show them how to fly, shoot energy blasts, and other little tricks in exchange for various favors. It took being sent to the Hospital Wing once for every encounter with the Boy Who Lived, but the dubbed 'Prince of Slytherin' was finally proving his cunning and that he truly belonged in the House that valued cunning and ambition above all other virtues.

That was the other thing that really made it a great month for Harry. Every weekend, like clockwork, right after breakfast, somewhere around the castle, usually outdoors, but not always, Draco Malfoy would hunt down Harry Son and challenge him to a fight. Insults would be traded, though Draco did stop using the 'M' word around Harry—unless he _really_ wanted to make him angry—and then they would fight. During each encounter, Harry would 'inadvertently' show Draco some minor trick that would 'teach him' how to fight better, or make some other technique he'd already learned easier to do. Then, after getting out of the Hospital Wing, Draco would trade those very same techniques and lessons for further favors, or whatever, from other students.

Unfortunately, not everybody had the same metabolism and sleeping habits as the Son family, so in order for anybody to get any better, they all had to keep training and there were only so many hours in a day. So, no matter what Professor Dumbledore said about it, people still woke up before breakfast and went running around the lake in the morning, and in the time where they either got a few extra Z's, or played pranks, or read books between the end of breakfast and the start of their first class, now they spent it practicing their ki skills. In fact, a week after Gohan's arrival, Professor Dumbledore tried to pull Harry aside as he did before, but he was far more disappointed from this talk than the one before. Harry had called no meeting, told no one to meet him and was leading no group or 'class' and carried no responsibility in telling any of the others what to do. Harry offered to teach the same skills to the Professors, but the request was denied. He doubted that they had as much potential, given their age, and they would never be as strong as the younger students could ultimately become, but he figured it couldn't hurt to offer. Apparently Professor Dumbledore thought that it could.

Regardless, Hogwarts was slowly becoming a school of more than just witches and wizards, but also of ki fighters. Maybe not so much on the fighting part, (so far), but it was only a matter of time. Besides, the way Draco was currying favors and going at Harry the way he was, Harry felt sure that every student at Hogwarts would soon enough know all the same 'tricks' that he'd been planning on teaching them in the first place, hopefully by or before the end of the year.

As for his friends, not that he was exclusive but as time passed he found he spent more and more time with Hermione, Justin, Neville and Ron than most anyone else, and well, while he promised Dumbledore he would not _train_ anybody else, he could certainly answer questions and show his friends how he did the things he could do. They just happened to be around him a lot more than anyone else in the school, which in turn presented them with greater opportunity to ask questions and for demonstrations. And now that Gohan was also attending school, he had the opportunity to make his own friends and could answer questions and demonstrate for them the same as Harry was doing.

It wasn't exactly a lawyer level loophole, but it worked and was further evidence that Harry was just as cunning as he was brave, loyal and intelligent.

Speaking of his friends, they each showed significant progress and development, in more than just a few ways during the passing month.

Ron showed probably the greatest progress out of all of them, though that mostly had to do with how far behind them he'd started out at. When he first got to Hogwarts, all he did was eat, sleep, go to class (but only because he _had_ to), and play chess. And from all accounts, if Harry hadn't started training him that's still all that he would be doing. Now, he wakes up with the sun every morning, same as all the other boys in his dorm, and together they all run down the stairs and then down through the castle to do laps around the lake, but not before stretching and warming up a bit in their room. Then, after laps around the lake, Ron would work on his ki control by flying as high as he could and then going to the top of one of the nearby mountains and running, jumping and flash-stepping down said mountain and through the Forbidden Forest back to the school in time for breakfast. After a day full of classes and classwork, he then joined Harry and Gohan and whichever number of their other friends that hung around out in the open areas throughout the school grounds, practicing and sometimes learning new tricks from either Harry or Gohan or figuring some out for himself. As it was, his speed and agility were growing by leaps and bounds every day and his overall strength, when fully powered up, had him lifting just over half a ton in weight. He'd also started learning some basic self defense techniques that Justin said he was taught by his older brother and father when he was younger. Mostly it was grappling and knowledge of basic human weak points. Harry, mostly to keep Ron from calling it 'boring' encouraged the practice, saying that it was a good starting point, and without a starting point there would be no way any of them could learn more advanced techniques.

On a more personal front, Ron had improved there too. At least from Harry's eyes he had. To be totally honest, Harry's first impression of Ron was that he was more than a bit selfish and very self-involved. In all fairness, with the exception of Neville, all his close friends were rather self-involved, Hermione even more so than Ron. But they were kids, so it was to be expected.

Since he started training, and apparently made Neville Longbottom his best friend—within Gryffindor at least—Ron had matured a great deal. Well... in hindsight it was a great deal. He was still selfish, still tended to be very blunt and had little reason to censor his opinions, and there was still that low attention span thing, but when Harry was around he at least curbed his mouth and his temper, or tried to most of the time. Which Harry called progress.

Neville Longbottom, on the other hand, seemed to be at the polar opposite end of the spectrum from Ron Weasley. Where Ron was lazy, selfish and temperamental, Neville was quiet, shy, and extremely introverted. When they first met, he'd also been clumsy, uncoordinated, and where Ron was ignorant out of laziness and therefore choice, Neville was purely absentminded and while he did try his hardest, it just never seemed to click for him. Then Harry started training and as was stated previously, Neville became a real exercise nut.

Not that either he or Gohan was there to see it, but it was believed that in the Gryffindor First Year boys dorm, Neville was always the first one up and it was him doing stretches, push-ups, sit-ups and jumping jacks that woke the others and got them up and going. And where Ron flew to the mountain, Neville did the opposite after running laps around the lake, which he also did at least one more than everybody else. Neville would run from the school, through the Forbidden Forest, to whatever mountain was straight out from the point he started from (not necessarily the nearest) and then he would run, jump, flip, and flash-step to the top of it, and once he'd reached the peak, that is when he would fly and race back to the school. He always beat the others back by a good ten minutes, even though he started after them by running extra laps.

As a result, Neville was quickly losing what remained of his chubby baby fat and developing a bit of a bulk in the muscle department. During ki training in the afternoons, he mostly stuck with either Harry or Hermione in learning the individual tricks, rather than stick to improving his physical abilities of ki manipulation, like Ron did, or by firing ki blasts and ki beams like Justin was doing. He was still kind of quiet and reserved, but Harry was sure that it was no longer the near-crippling shyness or introverted behavior he'd had before. Also, more from his physical training than anything else, his clumsiness was almost completely gone, but the absentmindedness was still there. Seeing that he was actually trying though, Hermione no longer berated him—as she did Ron—about studying, but instead helped him in studying and doing her best to explain things that he did not properly understand. When it came to schoolwork, which was usually done in the Library seeing as they were in different Houses, she was quite capable and could answer any question he had. It was as good as having the Professor there, just without the intimidation factor. When it came to the subject of ki, on the other hand, Harry or Gohan were the ones he asked, as Hermione was still learning it herself and despite her drive and competitiveness to learn it, they both knew far more than she did.

In those regards, both he and Hermione were on the same level. So when the people in Gryffindor finally noticed—and they did notice—that Neville and Ron were the ones spending the most time with Harry, and that Neville was soon demonstrating better control of his ki as well as more skill than Ron, well it was not long before the other First Year boys, and all the other Gryffindors that had been part of Harry's training, started coming to Neville for advice and training that they could do to further their own skills. Ron initially seemed troubled by this, and Neville, being the person that he is, offered to refer the people coming to him to the youngest Weasley instead. Struck nervous at the prospect, Ron immediately changed the deal to being Neville's "agent" with the rest of the House of Lions. Which basically meant that rather than cornering Neville and dealing with the quiet, near-mute Longbottom, they would go to Ron and Ron, with his connections to his older brothers, the infamous Weasley Twins, Fred and George, as well as the Fifth Year Prefect, Percy, managed to secure an hour or two on different nights in the Common Room where Neville could help in showing the rest of the House how to do all the tricks and ki control exercises that he was learning. It was a very... maturing experience for the both of them.

Speaking of whole Houses learning from the few, Justin was quickly becoming the star of the First Year Hufflepuffs. Each year had one; one Hufflepuff, one 'Badger' that stood out amongst the others and could lead the House of Loyalty. Ernie Macmillan had apparently been vying for the position, sounding more Ravenclaw than Hufflepuff most of the time, but he really couldn't compete with Harry Son's closest friend within Hufflepuff. And as one could expect, what one Hufflepuff does, all Hufflepuffs do.

So, with very singular exceptions, mostly in the older years, pretty much all of Hufflepuff House was training to develop their ki and were very free with the information and skills that they discovered or learned. At least, they were when amongst themselves. Outside of the House of Badgers, well let's just say that it was a good thing for those studying ki that Draco figured out it would be a good idea to earn 'favors' from the other Houses, even in Gryffindor.

As for Justin himself, same as everyone else he woke up early and ran laps around the lake before going off and doing additional physical training to fill the hours between waking and breakfast. In the afternoons, he usually spent time in the Library with Hermione and Neville, working on schoolwork together, and then went and practiced shooting energy blasts. He could now, after nearly a month and a half of working at it, control the amount of energy he put into the ki blasts, and also control the level of intensity in his ki beams. Originally, and as was the case for all the others just learning the skill, it was all he could do just to shoot out a continuous beam and to fire the blasts at all. When forming ki balls between the hands, it was a simple matter of concentration and seeing the results. A blast either fired or thrown on the other hand needed more forethought than steady concentration, as the blasts would either peter out, or be far more than intended, or it would explode in their face rather than on the target, or it wouldn't explode at all, just bounce around until it finally destabilized. To be able to reach that level of control in just a few weeks was nothing short of amazing, most thought.

Until Harry revealed that both he and Gohan had been able to do it after a week of training. Though to be fair, they'd been left in the wilderness and needed it to survive, giving them greater incentive to master it.

On a personal level, Justin was almost the stereotypical Cool Nice Guy you read about in stories or saw in movies and TV shows. The student class president that knew and was friends with jocks, geeks, and rebels equally, and always did the right thing at the right time with the right thing to say to the right people. Of course he didn't really behave in such an absurd manner, but he was friends with everyone and listened when you needed someone to listen while still having plenty of funny stories and anecdotes of his own to tell. There were hints that he had a somewhat privileged life back in the real world, but he did not let it give him a swelled head, if anything he often made it sound like he was humbled by it.

Hermione, on the other hand, had no problems telling anybody willing to stick around and listen everything she knew about everything. Whether they wanted to or not. She still had some trouble with that, but Harry had found the best way to get her to stop was just to ask her about things that could not be discovered or learned about in books. Things such as if she had any siblings, if she had a favorite activity, if she had a favorite book and if so which genre or author was her favorite. And if it became truly mind-numbing at points, he just asked her about her home life, her parents, where she lived, if she had any friends waiting for her back home, and increasingly personal questions that got her to quiet down for a bit. Eventually she caught on, and like Ron had learned to curb his tongue around Harry, she too stopped spouting various useless facts and random trivia whenever he was present.

Yet as with everything, it worked both ways. Hermione would constantly ask him and Gohan questions whenever they were around. Most often it was about using ki, but occasionally her curiosity got the better of her and she would ask them about their past adventures. Harry wasn't exactly talkative most of the time, but Gohan didn't mind at all and regaled the whole school sometimes—usually during mealtimes when everyone would stop and listen with rapt attention—with the stories of how their 'uncle' Raditz had arrived and kidnapped them both, or the time Garlic Jr. had kidnapped them, or the battle against the Saiyans, or the trip to Namek and their adventures there on the alien planet. There were a lot of stories.

As for her training, Hermione was somewhat of the odd one out, truth be told. Where everyone else worked at improving their bodies and their ki through exercise, as Harry had shown them, she only did the bare minimum of physical work. She actually showed up late to the morning exercises, a full ten minutes after Ron, not to mention the rest of the Ravenclaws in fact. And while she did exercise, all she did was stretch, run for a predetermined number of laps (and she was only increasing her laps by one a week rather than the average of ten a day like everyone else), before going off to meditate and maybe get in some flying practice. As a matter of fact, that was all she did; meditate and practice her ki control. The rest of her time she spent reading and doing her schoolwork, in excess of even the teachers stated requirements.

So while Harry was certain that she could go leaping about and run the length of the valley in a matter of minutes (less than sixty at any rate), and perhaps even shoot out all manner of ki attacks, nobody ever actually saw her doing anything more impressive than go flying. Most of the afternoons—after and between asking and answering questions—she sat herself down on a tuffet of grass in lotus position and then created a small ki ball between her hands and spent upwards of an hour just staring at it. Gohan and Harry, who'd both seen their sensei, Piccolo, do much the same thing when training did nothing to call the girl on it or correct her in how to do things. Harry had promised to stop training everybody directly and he was going to keep that promise. For _everybody_.

Then, in the middle of the next to last week of October, Hermione came to Harry that afternoon with a different set of questions.

"Harry, I need you to explain something to me," said Hermione, coming over to where he and Ron were practicing several self-defense moves.

"Hah!" Ron laughed, but a look from Harry quickly silenced him. Another look had the redhead ambling over to Gohan to continue his practicing.

"Sure, Hermione, I'll do my best to answer anything you need to know about," said Harry. "What can I do for you?"

"I want to understand how to use, er..." she trailed off and looked around nervously. Stepping closer, she asked, "Is anyone—Malfoy—listening in?"

Smiling, he shook his head and answered, "No, Hermione. The only ones close enough to hear us, in this open area between Hagrid's hut and the Whomping Willow, is our friends, and none of them are paying attention to what you still haven't asked me yet."

Blushing, she nodded, but remained close and whispered, "I need you to explain to me how you use, and how I can use... mana."

Harry jerked back, looking at his friend in surprise, and not all of it was the good kind of surprise either.

"By that I mean I want you to show me how you managed to control your magic and how to do it myself. You demonstrated it before, in Professor Flitwick's class, that—you called it a mana ball—you made it in class and it was clearly something you've been able to do for some time. I've been researching, you see, trying to find other instances where magic was harnessed and used by wizards and witches like that before. So far I haven't had much luck, other than stories about Merlin, and almost all of that is hearsay and embellishment with little or no supporting facts. I have also been trying to do the same myself, but the most I ever get is different types of ki, and I can now tell the difference between my magic and my ki, but I..."

"Hermione," Harry interrupted with a smile, "Shut up. And breathe."

Flushing slightly, she did as instructed. While she was quiet, Harry answered her request.

"Yes, I would be happy to show you how to control your magic the way I do. It's not a problem at all. Let's go over here and sit down and I'll get you started," he gestured to a nearby tree, which would not try to whomp them, and that they could sit under and receive plenty of shade from the bright sunlight overhead.

"Thank you," she said as she made herself comfortable. In the afternoons, most everybody changed to casual clothing; sweatpants, jeans, t-shirts, sweatshirts, and pretty much anything that was not their school uniform, which was difficult to train in to say the least.

"Like I said before, I'm happy to answer any questions you have and I always help my friends," he replied with a smile.

"Now, to begin with, a little bit of background so you can understand where I started and then you can make your own choices about how you want to proceed, all right?" said Harry. "Back when I was five, almost six years old, Gohan and I were kidnapped by Raditz, our father's brother. Piccolo explained to us later on that the Saiyan warrior took us—as hostages—because he mostly wanted to make our father come after him, but also because he seemed to think that he could train us into true Saiyan warriors or something like that. After Raditz was killed, Piccolo was warned that more Saiyan warriors were coming and they were far stronger than Raditz. Piccolo sensed in each of us a great potential."

"Yes," Hermione interrupted, "You've told us before. Piccolo threw Gohan at a mountain and the poor boy vaporized it on the spot. Then he threw you at another mountain, and you disappeared and reappeared right beside your brother."

Smiling, Harry just shrugged at her and continued. "Thing is, I didn't have very much ki to work with. About average, I was told, for a six year old boy. So, while Gohan was learning energy blasts and how to fight on Piccolo's level, I was left exercising in efforts to build up my ki. Then I happened upon the idea of trying to use my special powers—which I'd only used for teleporting and summoning stuff and minor bouts of telekinesis before then—to cheat a bit."

"Cheat?" Hermione repeated.

"Cheat," Harry confirmed. "Because the way things were going, the Saiyans were six months away and it was looking like it would take me another ten years to even get as good as Gohan was _then_. So, I ran off one day, while Piccolo was beating Gohan into the ground, and sat myself under a roaring waterfall, and meditated on tapping into my special powers. At the time I did not know—didn't even suspect really that it was magic. Just that I seemed to be the only one that could use it and that it felt different than using ki."

"Here's where you'll probably do things differently than me," he said as disclaimer before continuing. "It took me over a dozen tries to even reach the rock in the middle of the waterfall, and another half dozen to figure out how to sit on it without being washed away or drowned. Eventually though, I did manage it and once I was on that rock, I closed my eyes and focused on the special power within me, trying to bring it out, to control it. That first day, I was shivering uncontrollably before so much as ten minutes had passed, and spent the night getting over a bout of hypothermia. But the very next day, I was back at that same waterfall, trying it again. Took me three days, but eventually I managed to tap into my magic and cast what I now know to be a full body warming charm on myself. All I knew at the time though, was that I controlled the special energy inside myself and made it keep me warm. At the end of the week, I could control my magic at will, in a similar method to how I controlled my ki, but with more of a mental aspect than a physical one."

"So... you began by finding a way to force your magic to respond to your will, to turn what had been accidental magic into intentional use of magic?" Hermione questioned.

"That's one way to look at it," Harry acknowledged. "Here's another. After I learned to control my magic, I could use it intentionally, but only with massive amounts of concentration. In order for it to work at all, I had to be absolutely focused on _exactly_ what I wanted it to do. The spells they're teaching us here? I recognize them for what they are; they're shortcuts, mnemonic devices that teach us how to focus our magic into a controllable format. When I first started my training, I didn't have that. All I had equated to wishing real hard. That was not going to cut it for me. So I tried something else then."

"What?" she asked when he did not immediately continue.

"I did nothing," he answered.

"What?" she repeated herself, but asking a different question.

He nodded. "I. Did. Nothing. I laid myself out and just stared up at the sky and didn't allow myself to so much as move a toe. Mentally, on the other hand, I was doing plenty though. I started with distinguishing between my ki, which was enough to manifest a ki blast and fly but not much more than that, and my magic, which I still thought of as 'special energy'. Once that was done, I started to compare the two. One was wild, erratic, and was in sync with my pulse and breathing. The other was smooth, transient, and in sync with my thoughts and will power. In the case of ki, I found, as I'm sure you have as well, controlling ki is like controlling lightning or electricity. Controlling magic on the other hand, well that is like controlling the wind. Sometimes it worked and did what you wanted and expected of it, and sometimes it did nothing at all, while other times it did not do what you wanted and nothing like what you expected. I lay there for six days and nights, not moving my body once."

"WHAT?! That's impossible!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Indeed," Harry agreed. "Dehydration primarily, but also there's the fact that before my laying down, I hadn't eaten anything solid for the four days prior. There's also the insects that were nibbling at my body, the sun pouring down on me, and the temperatures at night. But I am telling you the truth, Hermione. I wasn't sleeping, and I was conscious the whole time and I counted it by the setting and rising of the sun and the stars. It was a torment that I cannot easily describe and I would not make it up or tell it to you casually Yet I was bound and determined to master this power I have in me and I was out of ideas by that point."

She could only stare at him in awe. While she could hardly be called a human lie detector, she was fairly decent at spotting a tall tale when she was being told one. As best she could tell, Harry was entirely serious and telling her the truth.

"On the dawn of the seventh day, something changed," he told her as he finished the story. "It just clicked. I completely understood what the special power inside of me was and how it worked. I realized that it was magic that kept me alive, that healed my wounds from the insect bites, that salved my skin from the heat of the sun, that kept me warm at night, and kept my body from starving itself to death. And as it worked to keep me alive, I paid close attention to everything that it did and was doing. At sunset of the seventh day, I stood up and for the first time channeled my magic with the same ease I did my ki. After that, spells and other magical effects became easy and took a quarter of the time to cast. Still required concentration, but so did firing a ki beam or a remote controlled ki ball. In the remaining months between then and the Saiyans arriving, I developed the mana ball, a number of 'spells' that is nothing but me willing the magic what to do, and other ways of using magic to improve my overall training."

"So... how did you do it? How do I do it? Control my magic I mean?" she questioned.

"That..." he leaned forward and then tapped her on the nose, causing her to flinch back, "... is a very good question. I wouldn't recommend a forced fasting and laying around doing absolutely nothing for a week. But the short answer to your question is that you have to observe and feel how your own magic works. Also, keep in mind that I was six-years-old at the time, and a bit dense. Hopefully you won't have to go to such extremes. You are much more intelligent and it shouldn't take you as long to figure it out."

"And then?" she asked, desperate.

"And then," he answered by holding out his right hand and creating a glowing green sphere of magical energy above it. He smiled and sent it hurling towards the Whomping Willow some distance away. Mere feet from striking it, the green orb transitioned into the same red of a stunning spell and instantly the wild plant drooped all its branches, stunned.

"That..." Hermione was also stunned, but in a different way.

" _That_ ," Harry said with emphasis, "was a stunning spell. I learned it from watching Malfoy and his lot fire it at me so many times. It takes an extra bit of concentration to turn it from raw magic into a spell though, just so you know. Start with the basics though. Gather and generate mana the same way you do ki. Once you can do that, find a way to do both, gather and generate ki and mana at the same time."

" _How_ did you do that? How is it that you are so good at magic already?" Hermione demanded to know.

"That has to do with my trip to Namek," he revealed with a mischievous smirk. "One hundred times normal gravity is enough to kill a normal person, but using magic to survive, it taught me more about how to control and use my own magic than anything else you can imagine could. I would not recommend doing that either, by the way."

Letting out a heavy sigh, Hermione nodded her head, acknowledging his sage advice for what it was. Wisdom learned through the hard way; pain.

"All right, I understand," she said. "And thank you, Harry. I guess I better get started then."

She then turned so her back was to the tree and folded her legs into the lotus position and closed her eyes. Only to snap them open as Harry reached towards her.

"One quick thing," he said as he reached into her pocket and pulled out her wand. "This is a crutch. It focuses your magic for you artificially and even boosts yours with its own when you are casting. Speaking from experience, I know that if your wand is outside of your minimum range, then it no longer interacts with your magic. If you are serious about doing this, start without the crutch. Once you can focus and use your magic without your wand nearby, then you can start using it again. At least while training to use mana directly. I'll hang onto this for you until you are done for today, OK?"

Rather than reply, she merely nodded her head and closed her eyes once more, focusing inwards. Harry got up and walked back over to where the others had wandered off to. From that point on, outside of classes, Hermione left her wand up in her trunk when working out and practicing with the others. Her roommates were concerned at first, but when it became clear that she wasn't just forgetting it, but leaving it there intentionally, the inevitable happened.

At first it was just gentle teasing by the other First Year Ravenclaws. Then it became taunting jibes by the older Ravenclaws. Then, a week and a half after she'd started her new training, she was attacked by a pair of Second Year Slytherin girls. They had caught her with a tripping jinx on her way back in to get ready for dinner. Then one bound her legs while the other cast sticking charms on her clothes and tried to levitate her to the ceiling. Tried being the operative word.

The moment her body left the ground, Hermione powered up to her maximum. A ki flame, wilder and brighter than anything any student—save for Harry and Gohan—had produced to date ignited around her body and her bushy brown hair straightened and flew about her head like waves along the beach. She pulled her petrified legs apart through sheer brute force and then 'stood' before her two assailants a good two feet off the ground. They ran. She shot two energy beams, one from each hand, striking them square in the back and knocking them the rest of the way down the hall into the stone wall, knocking them out. Which, from where they'd been struck, had still been a good ten or more yards away.

After that, nobody teased Hermione about walking around without her wand ever again.

Speaking of bullying though, Gohan found himself the target of more than a few 'pranks' during the month. In spite of his relationship with Harry, and being a ki powerhouse, it was no secret that Gohan carried no wand and was there on a scholarship. There was even a rumor going around that Gohan had no magic whatsoever, that he was actually a normal person (people were very careful not to use the 'm' word when Harry was around) who had only been allowed into Hogwarts because his brother was the Boy Who Lived!

So between classes, in the halls, before and after lunch, or pretty much any time when Harry was not standing there right beside him, the more... mischievous and bully-types around the school targeted Gohan with the standard pranks. Nothing on the same level as what Fred and George targeted people with, just small stuff. Tripping jinxes, color-changing spells, and the occasional wedgie hex.

Through sheer necessity, Gohan was learning via trial by fire how to stop, counter, and deflect spells from hitting him. When Harry inevitably learned of it, he immediately set out to correct such behavior—with extreme prejudice. Gohan stopped him before he could actually do anything though, and instead got his brother to _help_ him instead, by spending a couple nights during their private training shooting harmless spells at him so the half Saiyan could train in protecting himself against magic.

As a result, or more of a side effect, Harry wound up training Gohan in how to use his magic directly—to use mana—the same thing he was teaching Hermione in fact. It was during this training that he confirmed that Gohan does indeed have magic and can use it. The other side of this knowledge was in also learning that in terms of the amount of magic power he had at his disposal, Gohan was _just_ above what the Wizarding World calls a Squib; a pure blood child of pure blood parents who cannot use magic at all.

"Well that seems fair," Harry commented privately to his brother when this discovery was made. "You get the potential of infinite ki, while having just enough magic to be called a wizard, while I have the average amount of ki power for someone our age, and enough magic power and control over it that I can best most adult wizards already! Ha ha ha!"

Gohan didn't think it was that funny.

Nevertheless it was true. Harry was a magical prodigy and since day one he'd had to rely mostly on his magic just to keep up with his brother and the other Z fighters—their father's friends who helped in defending the Earth from destruction. It wasn't until the trip to Namek and undergoing heavy gravity training, as well as having his potential unlocked by the Namek Elder that he became strong enough to match evenly with Gohan and the others. So here at Hogwarts, he was a cut above all the rest, but back home he was still considered the weak one. Gohan, on the other hand, he was struggling just to stay afloat, academically speaking, not to mention fitting in with the other magical students.

Well, that wasn't entirely accurate. Despite his limitations, whatever the subject, Gohan could still read and do the homework, and the essays that were assigned were the same as written essays for any other subject you'd care to name. That much was easy for both of the brothers. But half the grade for every Hogwarts student was demonstrating the practical, showing they could actually use the spells they were learning. No matter the exceptions employed, facts could not be changed that Gohan had yet to successfully cast even one spell. And every one of their classmates knew it.

Hence the quote/unquote "bullying".

Even after a number of minor confrontations where Harry intervened and strove to protect his older (even if only by a matter of weeks) brother, and the times when Gohan successfully blocked or deflected the spells being cast at him, he was still a target. And while the greater amount could be said as coming from Slytherin house, since neither Gohan nor Harry were a part of _any_ of the Four Houses, there was also no internal protection and once or twice there would be an older Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and yes even Hufflepuff taking potshots at Gohan whenever they could. Neither of them let it get to them, instead focusing on those they did count as friends, as well as their training.

Bullying aside, since that was just as much a part of growing up as hundreds of other cultural rituals throughout all societies since the beginning of time, the Son brothers were having a great time at Hogwarts. Certainly more than if they were stuck at home and had nothing but daily training and nightly studying to do. Sure, that was what they were doing now, but the difference was really quite simple and rather obvious to anyone looking. If they were stuck at home, the only people they would see on a day-to-day basis would be their father, their mother, Piccolo, and maybe occasionally one of their father's friends, not to mention all the animals around their home. While here at Hogwarts, they were in a _castle_ , in _another country_ , with over a _half thousand_ other children, at least several dozen of those their own age, _away from home_!

It made all the difference in the world, even if they were still studying all day and training all night.

Speaking of studying and training, Harry was seeking a very special and unique training opportunity of his very own, from his Transfiguration Teacher. At the beginning and ending of every class, Harry would ask Professor McGonagall if she could teach him how to transform. Of course he wasn't that blunt about it, he always made sure to ask questions that were not immediately recognizable as being about how to transform oneself, but eventually it still managed to turn out that way in the end.

"Professor McGonagall?" Harry raised his hand to be called upon.

"Yes, Mister Son? Are you having trouble with transfiguring your beetles?" she checked.

"No ma'am," he replied before quickly asking her, "I was wondering if it is possible to transfigure a human into a button, like we're doing with the beetles?"

"Yes, it is possible, but only with the proper spell, and taking into account Gamp's Laws of Transmutation," she answered without hesitation.

"Could you turn yourself into a button? Or a nail? Or maybe just into different materials without dying from it?" he asked rapid-fire before she could turn away. Unlike Snape, Professor McGonagall always answered every question put forth to her.

Giving him a stern look, telling him without saying that she knew exactly what he was doing, she answered him, "Theoretically, yes, practically, no, to both your first questions. The latter, however, only a Metamorphmagus is able to control their body to the degree necessary for something of that level."

"Why theoretically yes, but no at the same time, ma'am?" he asked.

Taking a moment to gather her thoughts, she replied, "Theoretically speaking, according to the listed—and thoroughly tested—laws of magic and rules governing the art of Transfiguration there is nothing stated that outright denies the possibility of one transfiguring themselves into a non-living object, such as a button or a nail. Practically, however, it has never been recorded as being successfully done. There is also to consider the fact that if a person were to ever actually succeed, they would then be stuck in this transfigured state until another magic user came along and reversed or countered the spell. Now if you will excuse me, Mister Son, there are others with questions of their own."

"Yes ma'am, thank you ma'am."

"Professor McGonagall?" Harry raised his hand to be called upon.

"Yes, Mister Son? Are you have trouble with your hedgehog?" the Professor inquired.

"No ma'am. What is a Metamorphmagus?" he asked.

"A Metamorphmagus," the Professor replied, reluctantly, "is a witch or wizard with the ability to change his or her physical appearance at will, rather than requiring Polyjuice Potion or a spell that the rest of the wizarding population would need. They are extremely rare. And their talents are not something that can be learned, save by another Metamorphmagus, which would have been quite apparent from birth."

"Is there a way to transfigure animal traits to ones body, without having to fully transfigure into the animal?" he asked her before she could dismiss him or move on.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, she gave him yet another stern look and replied in her own rapid-fire way. "The short answer to your question, Mister Son, is no. A more accurate response is quite simply that while there do in fact exist specific spells, potions and manufactured tools that _equip_ a person with predetermined appendages based upon those of animals, there is in fact no way to intentionally transfigure a part of oneself into an animal without undergoing the long and arduous process of becoming an Animagus. As has previously been discussed, and will not be covered in any further depth until your Third Year at Hogwarts; an Animagus is a witch or wizard who can morph him or herself into an animal at will. It is a learned, rather than hereditary skill, unlike those of a Metamorphmagus. Thank you for your questions and interest, Mister Son. Miss Brown, you have a question?"

Blocked from asking any further questions for the time being, Harry held his tongue for the rest of that day's lesson.

"Professor McGonagall?" Harry raised his hand to be called upon.

Taking a moment to judge the student and the task before him, she hesitated for only a moment longer before nodding at him, acknowledging his right to speak.

"Thank you ma'am," he nodded back. "In what ways is it possible to change, or transfigure ones own body without having to resort to potions, spells, or others? Are there only the Animagus skill and rare people called Metamorphmagi, or are there other ways that a witch or wizard can transform... er, transfigure themselves? And what are they? If you please?"

Professor McGonagall did nothing to hide her sigh of frustration, nor the rolling of her eyes. Over half the class was already doing the same, as a matter of fact. Some were groaning and moaning from the moment Harry raised his hand. Nevertheless, she persevered and responded to the student's inquiries.

"Theoretically, Mister Son, it is possible to transfigure ones own body in all the many same ways that I have been teaching you to transfigure others bodies. The proverbial catch, however, is that as ones body changes, their ability to use and control their magic, that which is facilitating the transfiguration, is also changing. It is why someone can be transfigured into a mouse, but that does not make them a mouse Animagus. Because while they are transfigured as such, _they are a mouse_. And a mouse has no magic, no concept of spells, and cannot even conceive of the level of concentration required to perform such a transfiguration."

"As for your other requests," she interrupted him before he could speak or ask anything else. "All I will say at this time is; yes, there are indeed other ways in which a magic user may transfigure themselves beyond that of the Animagus and Metemorphmagus. In regards to your latter two requests, I issue my same challenge that I did during your first lesson. Be the one student out of your year with the highest grade for my class, and no less than Exceeds Expectations in all your others, and I shall explain to you all the many different ways a wizard such as yourself, Mister Son, can transform himself. And if you choose one of those others over the Animagus transformation, I will endeavor to instruct you in accomplishing it."

"Yes ma'am!" Harry dutifully responded, a grin on his face.

"Professor McGonagall?" Harry raised his hand to be called upon.

"Mister Son," the Transfiguration Teacher snapped at the over eager student, "For every question you ask me that does not have something to do with either the material we are covering for the day, or your own work sitting right in front of you, I will take one point away from your overall grade for my class. Is that understood?"

Gulping, Harry silently nodded his head.

"Good. You had a question Mister Son?" she gave him a familiar stern look.

"I was wondering if I might be excused to go to the bathroom?" he hesitantly asked, blushing with embarrassment.

"Oh. Yes, all right, you may be. I won't take any points from you, Mister Son." She shot him the same familiar stern look. " _This time_."

"Yes ma'am," he nodded and hurried to finish his business.

Things like that happened in every class.

And Transfiguration was actually Harry's best class, better even than Charms! His other classes were much the same, differing only in the actual questions he asked. Especially History and Astronomy. Oh, Harry loved each and every one of his classes. It was the Professors and the other students that began to grow tired of his constant flow of questions. Well, in History, the Professor loved his questions, there it was the students that hated it because it kept interrupting their naps.

The only class that Harry had any trouble with was Potions. Not that he viewed it as trouble, just the opposite in fact. On every single potion that Harry made in class, and they made a new and different potion in every single class—essay homework assigned at the end and due at the beginning of the next—Professor Snape blatantly told him that he did it wrong and to do it over again. And if you did not have a completed potion by the end of class, even if it was an abject failure, you got a zero for the day.

Harry thought of it as a challenge of course. He always did exactly what was on the board, but at a speed and precision that none could easily match, taking him a quarter of the time the rest of the class took for the same assignment. Every time, without exception, Harry would finish the potion, hand it in to Professor Snape, who then stated he did it wrong and vanished the contents of the cauldron before destroying the sample that Harry turned in. After that, Harry had to take some liberties with the listed instructions.

With less than half the ingredients needed left to him, the exact measurements of the original instructions could no longer be followed. So adaptation was required. Some quick math of percentages to proportions later, Harry would begin again, differing his methods and the way of putting it all together as needed. It was, strictly speaking from an objective viewpoint, the sort of work one would look for in a NEWT level Potions student, not a First Year student. The end result, almost always, was passable, though for some it was either a slightly more concentrated or much more diluted version of the potion than the general acceptable variation. Depending upon the potion, half the time Professor Snape would still proclaim he'd done it wrong and have him start over again. Some of the time, even using his considerable skill, strength and speed, it might take Harry the remainder of the class to get it right on the second try and if he turned in his final result along with the rest of the class, there was nothing Snape could do, not without tipping his hand far too much.

Some days, for some potions, usually the ones being done on the Double Potions block, Harry would finish his second attempt before the end of class and true to fashion, Snape would destroy the lot and have him start again. The few times that happened, Harry would step back a bit from the problem and look at it anew. After being told to do the same potion a third time, the class observed Harry just standing there at his station, staring into open space, fists clenched at his side, and his expression somewhat... pinched, halfway between a scowl and a look of intense concentration. Then, after no more than three minutes, he would blur into action. Getting _three_ cauldrons set up (some days it might be more), and then proceed to work at a furious pace doing... something. Nobody, except perhaps Professor Snape—seeing as he always kept a hawks eye on Harry in every class—could say exactly what he was doing, but by the end of class, he would be done and in each cauldron would be three variations of the potion. One done according to the listed instructions on the board, one done with different methods, and the third done with slightly different ingredients.

Again from an objective point of view, this sort of potion brewing you don't see outside of the limited and few potions masters as they study and research discovering new and different potions. Snape did not ask him to do it again after the third time, even if there was still time before the end of class. He would just stand there, scowling at Harry, and then take the offered samples and said nothing else. So while it was... tedious, the one thing that could be certain about Harry's Potions class, he never got a zero for the day.

The rest of Harry's friends, obviously, had fewer difficulties with their classes, but they all managed on their own. Since they were not all in one House, they couldn't meet in any of the Common Rooms, so usually after classes had ended and before they went to train for the day, they would meet in either the Great Hall or the Library. The Library was for studying, while the Great Hall was for general socializing, of course. Especially with the weather starting to get colder, the warmth of the indoors was appreciated as much as possible before they went outside for training.

Speaking of training, by the end of the month, Hermione had seemingly hit a wall with hers. True, she was focusing mostly on her mana and had also undertaken the goal of utilizing it alongside her ki, much like Harry did his. Unfortunately, she wasn't having much luck. When Halloween finally came around, it all came to a head.

 _Hogwarts_

 _October 31st_

On Halloween morning, the castle woke to the delectable scent of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors as the kitchens prepared for the evenings holiday feast. Even better, in Charms class that day, Professor Flitwick announced that he thought they were ready to start making objects fly, something most of them had been dying to try ever since they'd seen him make Neville's toad zoom around the classroom. Professor Flitwick put the class into pairs to practice.

Since Harry was there, and there were an odd number of students in each half of the class, Professor Flitwick decided to change things up a bit more than usual, and put Ravenclaws and Gryffindors together, rather than allow them to pair off within their own Houses. As such, Harry was partnered with the Gryffindor Seamus Finnigan, while Ron and Hermione were paired together. Neville, lucky dog, was the odd one out and was allowed to partner with the Patil Twins. For reasons known only to the three, something the sisters were saying to him kept getting him to flush red with embarrassment, but he made no moves to get away from them at all.

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too—never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f ' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

Harry was letting Seamus have first go at it, but the poor boy seemed to have no patience as after swinging and swishing and flicking and flapping his wand practically all over the place, not to mention saying the incantation in a dozen different ways, the feather hadn't so much as twitched. Finally he touched his wand to it, setting the thing on fire. Harry snuffed it with a localized ki shield to smother the flames, but the feather was in ruins after.

"Professor?" he called. "We're going to need another feather over here!"

Ron, at the next table, wasn't having much more luck.

" _Wingardium Leviosa_!" he shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill.

"You're saying it wrong," Harry heard Hermione snap. "It's Wing- _gar_ -dium Levi-o- _sa_ , make the 'gar' nice and long."

"You do it, then, if you're so clever," Ron snarled.

Hermione just shrugged at him, and then flicked her wand, and said, " _Wingardium Leviosa_!"

Their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.

"Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick. "Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!"

"Ugh, you try for a bit, Harry," Seamus grumbled, throwing his hands up in despair. "I'm never going to get this! Bloody useless feather!"

Harry chuckled at the boy's antics. "You'll get it fine," he said. "Just have more patience. And your wrist is too loose, so you're doing more snapping and flapping with your wand than swishing and flicking. Here, don't watch my wand, watch my wrist," he pointed, and then very slowly, very deliberately, and consciously holding back on how much magic was being channeled through his wand, he cast the spell. " _Windgardium Leviosa_."

Every feather in the room shot up to the ceiling and started to flutter there as though they were still trying to go higher. "Uh... oops?" Harry mumbled, staring at what he'd done. Apparently he hadn't held back on the magic as much as he'd thought.

"Perhaps a little less focus on the wording, Mister Son," Professor Flitwick patiently advised.

"Yes sir," Harry acknowledged, canceling the spell and allowing the feathers to float back down to the desks below.

After class, the Professor asked Harry and Gohan to stay behind a bit. They weren't in trouble or anything, he just needed to have a conversation with them and it was the first opportunity. Ron and Neville went on ahead, pushing their way into the crowded corridor.

"It's no wonder no one can stand her, honestly, she's a nightmare!" Ron said to Neville.

"That's not fair, Ron!" Neville defended her. "I like her just fine! She's my friend!"

"Yeah well, she still doesn't have to keep throwing it in my face how smart she is!"

"I don't," Hermione said, walking up behind them. "And thank you Neville. You are my friend as well. Unlike _some_ Gryffindors who neither want nor deserve my help."

Ron stuck his tongue out at her, but did not otherwise respond.

"So, uh," Neville looked back and forth between his two friends on either side of him, "Hermione, how goes learning to use mana and ki like Harry's been showing you?"

Grimacing briefly, Hermione sighed, saying, "Not as well as I like. I should have made some discernible progress by now, but I can't seem to do it."

"You mean you _still_ can't make a mana ball? Hah!" Ron laughed.

Glaring at the annoying redhead, she retorted. "Actually, no. But then I suppose you can? No? Too bad. At least I'm actually attempting to better myself. You just go at it like a brutish thug, no longer striving to understand exactly what it is you are doing, or just how amazing it is in the first place!"

Turning red with anger, Ron fumed for a few seconds before rounding on her and holding out his wand. With a shout of, "THERE!" he focused his magic and from the tip of his wand, a perfect sphere of reddish-orange manifested there at the end of it. It was crude, obviously not as powerful, and he'd created it with his wand instead of by himself like Harry could do, but it was just as clearly a mana ball.

"What do you have to say to THAT?!" Ron shouted, throwing the raw magic sphere at her. It had no real intent behind it, so the most it would do is explode with no more force than a game of Exploding Snap.

Hermione's hair straightened out, but no ki flame came from her as she vanished in a blur of movement to behind the angry redhead. Said redhead reacted through instinct and sped up so he saw her move and moved just as quickly to intercept. The result being that when she 'appeared' behind him, he was already facing her and had put out his arms, presumably to block an attack, but wound up shoving her back instead.

Rather than apologize for what he'd inadvertently done, though his face showed that had been his first instinct, instead he backed away and shouted at her, "Face it, Granger! You're no better than the rest of us! I don't know why you try so hard to prove that you are! It took me weeks to get as good as I am, and because I work at it, unlike you, I'm as strong as any one else here! You've been at it for nearly two months, and all we ever see you do is run and fly! And you think that you're the best? That you are as good as Harry? Hah! News for you girl, you are no where near that good, and if you keep going the way you are, you never will be!"

"Ron, that's enough!" Neville tried to pull his friend back, but he wasn't allowing it.

"No!" Ron yanked his arm free of Neville's grasp. He glared down at the once-again-bushy haired girl as she got to her feet. "You think all this is just another lesson to learn, one more spell or piece of magic that you get extra credit on, don't you? First lesson I learned when Harry started teaching us this? If you don't work for it, you don't get it. You don't work at it Granger! You sit around and _think_ about it! You don't get it and you never will! Just give up and stop wasting everyone's time. Why should Harry waste one more minute showing you anything if you're not going to do anything with it? I'd laugh if you weren't so pathetic!"

Before another word could be said, tears streaming down her face, Hermione ran off, disappearing into the crowd.

Neville punched his friend in the face and walked away. After Ron picked himself back up, Harry and Gohan finally walked out of Professor Flitwick's classroom.

"Hey!" Harry greeted the Gryffindor. "Where's everyone? What happened?"

"It's nothing," Ron grumbled. "Come on, let's get to class."

The Son brothers exchanged a look, but just shrugged at each other, no way of knowing what had just transpired. As neither of them had any other classes with Ravenclaw that day, they did not notice, but apparently Hermione hadn't turned up for the next class and wasn't seen all afternoon. Neville was shooting dirty looks at his soon-to-be-ex-friend in Gryffindor until it was time to go down to the Great Hall for the Halloween Feast.

The Halloween decorations put up there soon put any remaining sour feeling out of their heads however. At least for the time being.

A hundred live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling while a hundred more swooped over the tables in low-flying black clouds, making the candles in the floating jack-o-lanterns strobe. Not to mention the faces carved into those jack-o-lanterns made for some very spooky shadows on the walls, giving the Great Hall more of a haunted house feel than ever before. Even taking into account the fact that there were a number of ghosts floating throughout the place. The feast appeared suddenly on the golden plates, as it had at the start-of-term banquet.

Harry was just helping himself to a tenth baked potato, in addition to his two pumpkin pies, four steaks, platter of croissant rolls, and sweet potato salad, when Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and terror on his face. Everyone stared as he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair, slumped against the table, and gasped, "Troll—in the dungeons—thought you ought to know."

He then sank to the floor in a dead faint.

END "Episode 9: Hogwarts Halloween (Part1)"

( _Author's Note: I know I said I would cut back on doing these, but I just couldn't help myself. I seriously considered actually holding off on posting this Chapter until it was closer to actual Halloween, but decided to stick with my original time frame of posting the ninth chapter on September 9th and so on. I'm still planning a Fanfic Update for the day of Halloween, sort of an annual tradition of mine in honor of my Favorite Holiday EVER! But for HPZ here, Part 2 of "Hogwarts Halloween" will be released on October 10th rather than the 31st so no worries there. On the other hand, it won't be updated again past that until November 11th so that would be the down side. As always, I hope you enjoyed, and Please Review!_ )


	10. Hogwarts Halloween 2

Episode 10: "Hogwarts Halloween (Part 2)"

 _Hogwarts Great Hall_

 _October 31st_

 _Halloween Feast_

"Trolls! In the dungeon! ...Thought you ought to know..."

Harry was on his feet before Quirrell had even finished fainting to the floor. He grabbed the rest of the rolls, stuffed them in his mouth and swallowed before grabbing the remains of one of the steaks on his plate and did the same, using his ki to help mulch the food that much faster and using his magic to burn the fuel into usable energy even quicker. Gohan had done the same, only he'd actually cleaned his plate rather than leave things behind like Harry did. Stupid Saiyan stomach!

Reaching out with his senses, he quickly detected not one, not two, but _dozens_ of unfamiliar non-human life signs! Two were expected, having met the troll down in the dungeon on guard duty, but all these new ones... they felt different even from him!

' _Must be a different species or sub-species,_ ' Harry thought to himself as he looked to Gohan.

"I count forty-eight, maybe fifty," he said. Harry nodded, quickly sorting what his senses told him into individuals and discerning what and where.

"Let's go!" he said, turning to leave.

Everywhere else in the Great Hall, however, there was an uproar that was progressively getting louder with each passing moment. Just as Harry and Gohan turned to leave, Professor Dumbledore unleashed a series of very loud purple firecrackers from the end of his wand. The hall was quickly silenced after that. Except for Harry and Gohan that is, who did nothing more than glance back over their shoulders at the Headmaster even as they continued to make their way for the exit.

"Prefects," Professor Dumbledore rumbled, "lead your Houses back to their dormitories immediately! Professors..."

 _That_ stopped the Son brothers in their tracks, even as the Hall descended once more into a more controlled uproar. "Is he crazy, or just panicking like everybody else?" Gohan asked his brother.

"I'm hoping the latter more than the former, because if he is crazy, we've still got the rest of the year of him doing stupid things like this. Come on, no time to be subtle about this."

With that said, both of them ignited their ki flames and took to the air, reaching the large doors leading into the hall before anyone else could. People were surprised, but the Prefects were still trying to organize the Houses into evacuating the Hall, so nobody tried to stop them or even looked twice at them. That is until Harry and Gohan slammed both of the giant doors shut with a resounding crash. An uneasy silence, more absolute than what had followed after the Headmaster's firecrackers, fell across the student body. Then, one by one, those that had been trained by Harry in using ki and learned from Gohan himself gained determined expressions and began to step forward. Gohan turned on them and cowed them with a glare, but their own expressions remained.

"Lock the door behind us, and guard everybody else. Don't let anybody out until we've got them all." Harry ordered with a reluctant sigh, seeing all those that were prepared to follow them into danger. Then he opened just one of the doors and slipped through, Gohan following behind. The door closed automatically behind them.

 _Just_ before it shut this final time though, three boys from the crowd moved faster than any had expected and slipped through the closing crack. Before any others could try it, a few from the crowd jumped to the doors and with glows and small ki flames around them, lowered the bars to lock the doors.

Harry and Gohan sped off for the nearest 'troll' signature they could sense the moment they were through the doors. It was actually the blow back from their wake that slammed the doors shut rather than them intentionally closing them again. Therefore they didn't notice the three that slipped through, or how two made to follow them while the third planted himself in front of the doors, intending on protecting his fellow students no matter what.

As the brothers came closer to their target, they slowed down, taking the time to be sure of where they were and where they were going. When they reached the corridor the troll was in, they landed, keeping tense and their ki flames up, just in case. They couldn't see anything, but they could certainly smell it. Harry snorted, partly to rid the smell from his nostrils, partly in amusement as he shared, "I'm suddenly real glad I got those hygiene products for that Security Troll down there under Fluffy's trapdoor."

"Yeah," Gohan laughed, but it was cut short as they heard a guttural growl come from behind the only closed doorway in the corridor. "Oh man, the girls bathroom?"

There was a scream after the growl got louder. A very familiar scream!

"Hermione!" Gohan and Harry yelled, racing forward, propriety be damned.

The growl turned into a roar and the scream changed its tone. Before either of them could do anything more, the whole wall alongside the door _exploded_ outwards! Harry and Gohan raised their shields, defending against the flying debris, and then just stood there, stunned. Idly, they noted two ki signatures come up behind them, which soon revealed themselves to be Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy when they rounded the corner. The two from the Hall stopped, even more stunned than the more experienced ki fighters who'd witnessed the explosion. Because the explosion wasn't the only thing coming out of the wall from the girl's bathroom. Another scream echoed out into the corridor and the troll's roar became more of a groan as the smelly gray-skinned beast came _flying_ out of the hole in the wall, and hit quite painfully into the opposing wall, which was thankfully still whole and quite sturdy. The beast did not get back up.

Stepping almost gracefully through the hole she'd put there, Hermione came out of the bathroom, her hair straight and flowing like a model's, both fists clenched, but around her left was the yellow-golden glow of her ki, readying an energy attack, and around her _right fist_ was the solid, steady, body-hugging _blue_ glow of her mana, also readying an energy attack. Seeing the troll lying there, she glared down at it, her chest heaving with each breath. Suddenly, and without warning, the troll opened its eyes and roared, diving for the young witch.

Snarling at it disdainfully, Hermione brought her hands together and then _mixed her mana and ki_ _ **together**_! The end result was a solid blue sphere with a wild golden aura around it, and what could have been bubbles, green, inside where the two were actually somehow mixing and interacting. With a primal scream, she fired the mana/ki (ki/mana?) attack into the troll's face and what wasn't instantly vaporized, splattered against the wall in front of her, along with the remaining energy, leaving scorch marks all the way to the ceiling and as far down the hall as the eye could see.

"Don't you know it is rude to interrupt a lady when she is making herself presentable?" she said to the troll's very dead remains.

"Bloody hell," Ron couldn't stop himself from commenting in the background.

Hermione turned at the voice, as did Harry and Gohan. Draco rounded on Ron and commented in his usual derisive tone, "You really are a moron, aren't you Weasley? Even _I_ know not to annoy somebody that can do something like _that_ to a full grown mountain troll!"

Ron looked back and forth between Draco, Hermione and the remains of the troll, before focusing back on Hermione and gulping audibly. Harry laughed, letting out some of the tension that had built up. Turning to Hermione, he grinned and said, "Nice job, Hermione. I knew you would get it eventually. Mind me asking what let it click for you?"

"Yeah, uh," Ron's voice squeaked, "Uh, yeah, we didn't see you in class all afternoon, uh... sorry."

"I'm sorry, what was that, _Ronald_?" Hermione spoke, her voice hard.

"Uh... I'm... sorry? I am sorry for, for what I said earlier, Hermione. I'm just... sorry," his shoulders slouched as he hung his head.

"Hmph!" Hermione turned her nose up at him, arms crossed. That was when the boys noticed she wasn't in her school robes, but the outfit she usually trained in; spandex leotard, trainers, and an oversized t-sweatshirt with the sleeves cut off.

"Wait a minute here!" Harry exclaimed. "Hermione Granger _skipped classes_ to spend the afternoon _training_?! Is the world coming to an end sooner that we thought?"

"Oh honestly!" Hermione rolled her eyes, but she was finally smiling.

"What was it you said to her, Ron?" Gohan asked. He was not smiling.

Blushing red, Ron refused to meet anyone's gaze.

"He basically accused me of not working hard enough," Hermione spoke, her gaze settled firmly on the red Weasley. "And since I accomplished my goal of the past two months in just a few hours, I can't say he was entirely wrong. As for the rest, I don't really remember. He was being an idiot and I don't listen to idiots."

Harry snorted and shot Ron a dirty look. "You are so lucky there are nearly fifty trolls still left wandering the castle right now, otherwise you would be joining Malfoy in the Hospital Wing this weekend. And yes, I'm aware that it is only Thursday."

"What are trolls doing in the school in the first place?" Hermione asked.

The boys all shrugged, but Gohan answered, "We're not sure. Professor Quirrell came running into the Hall just after the Feast got started, screaming about trolls in the dungeon."

"Well, needless to say, I think they're out of the dungeons by now," Hermione kicked the decimated body further away from her.

"Some of them are," Harry agreed. "But there are plenty more still down there. I can sense it."

"Harry, there are too many, scattered all over for the two of us alone," said Gohan.

"Yeah. We'll have to split up then. Since we're the only ones that can actually sense them accurately, and it is stupid to go with no backup, you take Malfoy and Weasley, yeah Ron—you!, down to the dungeons. Malfoy, you know the dungeons well enough to get around there?" Harry asked the blonde Slytherin.

"Of course!" said Draco.

"I'll take Hermione and we'll cover all the floors above ground floor. Between the two of us, we should be able to handle them, no problem."

"Why do I have to go with them? Why can't I go with you?" Ron whined.

The scathing looks he received from both Harry and Hermione were answer enough and he backed down, saying, "Never mind. I'm sorry. I'll just... go with Gohan then."

"That's probably a good idea," Gohan said, still frowning. "What are you two doing out of the Hall in the first place? We told you to stay behind and lock the doors."

"I wasn't about to let Harry do this alone! I don't abandon my friends!" Ron exclaimed.

"And I wasn't about to let Son, er either of you, take all the credit for defending the school. I'm just making sure Slytherin gets the points it deserves for this little... escapade," Draco replied.

"My, how noble both of you are," Hermione scoffed. "Let's go Harry. I don't think I was the only one late to the Feast."

"Right," Gohan turned to his two partners, as Harry acknowledged the girl with a nod. "Come on you two. Drain-o, what is the fastest way to the dungeons from here?"

"It's _Draco_! And I did not give you permission to use my first name! And... there's a secret passage down here that some of the Fifth Years use to get to Herbology quicker," he pointed and lead the way.

"Let's start from the Grand Staircase," Harry suggested as he and Hermione took to the air.

"Lead the way," she said, following along behind him.

 _Hogwarts Dungeons_

Draco lead the other two through the dungeons, while Gohan focused on finding the trolls there. Ron kept quiet. It wasn't long before they found what they were looking for.

"Rrraaawwwrrr!" the troll came screaming around the corner, wooden club raised and already swinging down.

"Ahhh!" Draco and Ron both cried out, jumping back.

Gohan vanished in a blur of motion, and then once the troll's club smashed into the stone floor, chips and splinters flying everywhere, the boy reappeared just behind the monster's head, leg already in motion to kick the back of its skull. There was a sound of a heavy impact, and the next thing the two wizards knew, the eight-foot gray smelly creature was falling to the ground, unconscious.

They both stared, having stopped shouting only after it had fully collapsed, and then kept doing double-takes between the unconscious troll, and Gohan, the boy that knocked it unconscious _with one blow_!

"Blimey," Ron muttered, in awe.

Draco, on the other hand, bristled and turned his nose up, partly out of habit but mostly to try and keep the smell further away from it. "Well, I could have done that. It's just a stupid troll, after all. Not like it takes much cunning to outwit them," he snootily commented.

"Oh good," Gohan grinned at them. "For a bit there I was worried I'd have to take these things on all by myself. You can have the next one, and if you're as good as you say, we can probably split up, get this done faster."

"On the other hand, there is strength in numbers, and besides," Draco quickly scrambled to cover for his blundering, "I doubt Weasley here could handle a flobberworm, let alone a full grown mountain troll!"

"Oh yeah, we'll just see about that!" Ron growled at the pretentious blonde, fist clenched.

"Huh," Gohan grunted from further down the corridor. "Two of them. You guys want one each, or you want me to take that one and you two can team up on the other one?"

"Wait, what?" both young wizards exclaimed, but by that point the pair of trolls had noticed them and were already charging. After that, they cut down on the chatter, a bit too busy trying to survive the fight to one-up each other.

Gohan raced forward and slammed the one on the right with a flying kick, knocking it back down the corridor, but leaving the other one to keep charging forward. Draco and Ron shot panicked looks at each other and then the troll, which hadn't even noticed losing its battle companion, and they both screamed out loud and started to power up. Ron shoved everything he had and could gather into his body's muscles, causing them to bulk up slightly as his robes and hair fluttered from the energy coming off of him. Draco, as a counter point, gathered and focused his energy and then channeled it to only parts of his body and the rest of it to his hands in order to use for energy attacks. Both charged the troll at the same time, just as it'd begun swinging its weapon at them.

Ron dodged to the side and then flash stepped in order to flank the creature. Draco fired a single, concentrated ki blast and vaporized the tree branch club, and then another three rapid-fired to its hanging gut, chest and face right as Ron lashed out with a spinning kick to its side. The blasts exploded with a flash of light, concussive force and a whole lot of smoke, while the force behind Ron's kick slammed it into the wall of the corridor. Stunned, the troll bounced off the wall and fell to the floor.

"Yeah! We did it! Awesome!" Ron yelled, arms raised.

"What do you mean, ' _we_ '?" Draco snarled, already powering down.

The smoke cleared, and the troll slowly lumbered to its feet, growling.

"Uh, we... didn't... beat it?" Ron squeaked.

Angered, the troll shook its bald head and roared at them.

"You made it angry!" Draco accused, desperately trying to gather and channel his power once again, as quickly as he could.

"Me?! You're the one that shot it in the face!" Ron screamed at the Slytherin, jumping to the ceiling and using it as a brief platform to bounce off of. Thankfully, he hadn't powered down.

"AHH!" Draco screamed as he began rapid-firing at the creature with both hands.

Now behind the troll, Ron started looking it over, trying to find some kind of weakness to take advantage of. It was covering itself with its massive arms in the face of Draco's wild attacks, its growls getting more intense, but at least it wasn't attacking them yet. Thinking back on Harry's lessons and advice, Ron tried to figure out what to do. Harry always said to go for the weak spots, places on the body that were not and could not be easily defended. Then strike hard, strike fast, and don't hold back without meaning to. That last part never made much sense, but the rest did.

Facing the troll's back, he had five options; the back of the knees, the kidneys, or the back of the neck. Seeing that even with it crouched down like it was, he couldn't begin to reach the back of the neck even with a running start, he decided to work his way up. Moving forward as fast as he could will himself to, he slid and kicked out at the back of the troll's left knee, then using his hands to help with the rotation, spun around on the floor to build up momentum before kicking out the back of the right knee. Knowing the thing was going down after that, having felt both give way, Ron flash-stepped from beneath it and further down the corridor.

Unfortunately, just because it was down did not mean it was out. It had fallen to the floor, but it was still conscious and Draco's attacks seemed to be annoying it more than hurting it.

"Grr! If Granger can do it, why can't I?!" Draco growled, abandoning the rapid-fire for shooting a straight and continuous energy beam at the thing. It actually blocked the beam with its right hand the same way anyone else might have tried to block a stream of water blasting at them.

"Bloody Slytherin still doesn't know how _not_ to hold back," Ron grumbled, moving quickly, he focused all the power he had into punching the thing on the crown of its exposed head.

There was a dull thump at the moment of impact, and then Ron pulled his hand away and started waving it up and down while screaming in pain. Draco stopped firing, having gotten out of breath and was sweating now from using all that energy. The troll... uh, well the troll was now unconscious and snoring rather loudly. Apparently, while not as quick or effective as Gohan's method, Ron's punch to its head did managed to knock it out.

"Ow," Ron whimpered, still holding his bruised hand.

"Nice job guys," Gohan complimented them. He was at the end of the corridor, along with three more unconscious troll that had shown up alongside the first one he'd tackled. "Come on, there are more down here that we need to take care of. I'll let you guys take the next one though. I don't want to be too greedy like my dad and brother."

"Greedy? GREEDY?!" Draco yelled. "That thing is a bloody monster! I can't even make a scratch on it! It could have killed us! Me! It could have killed me!"

"Nice to know you care, Malfoy," Ron sarcastically remarked, wrapping up his injured hand with the cloth belt from his robe. It helped with the pain a little, and he hoped it might provide what little protection it could from further injury.

"Well, it was a good plan," Gohan said, already on the lookout for the next troll. "You distracted it while Ron went around and got behind it to knock it out. If trolls are really as dumb as you say, you might try it again, see if it will work."

"Heh," Ron quietly teased the blonde Slytherin as Gohan moved on ahead. "You're the distraction. Hahaha!"

"Shut up!" Draco snapped at him. "Next time you get to be the distraction. We can't go that way, it's a dead end. Supposedly the portrait at the end is supposed to be the end point for some secret passageway out of the school, but nobody knows the password for it."

"Good," Gohan grinned, cracking his knuckles. "There are about a dozen or so of the things down here. That should thin their ranks quite nicely, and with it being a dead end, they'll be trapped down there."

"Trapped?" both boys gulped nervously.

"I'll go ahead and scatter them, you two take any stragglers that get by me," he ordered and then raced down the dead end corridor. Draco and Ron both hoped that the phrase would not soon become a self-fulfilling prophecy for them. They followed along behind.

 _Hogwarts Upper Floors_

Harry and Hermione did not find or come across another troll for the next two floors up from where the first one had been... taken care of. And because of the fun house nature of the corridors, it was rather difficult to get to where they sensed them, even when using the Grand Staircase to get to the requisite floors. Although to save time, they bypassed the stairs and just flew to the platforms.

"I did not expect this to take as long as it has," Harry admitted to her once they started along the Charms corridor on the third floor. "They're close, but none of the passages take us even close to them."

"I know," Hermione agreed. "I mean, that one stumbled into the girls bathroom while I was in there, so I expected them to be swarming everywhere else if they've actually made it out of the dungeons. Do you think that they're only attracted to where humans are?"

"Then there are probably some trying to get into the Great Hall, but we left the doors shut and locked. So long as nobody has done anything stupid and opened it to get everybody back to their dorms again, they should be fine. Let's try down... wait!"

Harry stopped and Hermione came up short. "What is it?" she asked.

Silent, he pointed around the corner. There was the sound of quick footsteps coming closer.

"Who is it?" Hermione whispered, once she recognized the sound. Harry just shook his head, frowning slightly.

Before she could ask again, the person came into view and hurried past them down the passage opposite. It was Snape! He crossed the open corridor, looking neither right nor left, focused on his goal, and was soon gone from view.

"What's he doing?" Harry whispered. "Why isn't he in the Great Hall with the rest of them? I'm sure I would have sensed if they'd spread out..."

"I don't know," she admitted. "He's... Harry! He's heading for the forbidden corridor!"

"Yeah," he said, distracted, already slipping around to the passage Snape had come from. "I'm a bit more concerned with him getting out on his own, than him going to play with Fluffy."

"Well, yes, but... wait?" she stopped and stared at him. "Fluffy?"

"The dog's name," he answered, not stopping. "Cousin Hagrid raised him. When I introduced Gohan to him, I decided to make a family thing out of it and Hagrid told us all about him. Hey! I think I might have found one!"

"But... Professor Snape..." Hermione pointed, but Harry had already gone ahead. "Oh! _Boys_!"

With nothing else to do, she hurried after her friend, powering up with every step as she went, since they were planning on facing off against a whole lot of trolls, she knew she at least ought to be prepared for it. It took her a few twists and turns, but she soon caught up with him, right as he bumped into Professor Quirrell!

"Professor Quirrell!" she exclaimed, setting him on the floor while Harry was blushing, looking down at their Defense teacher, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. "What are you doing here?"

"And how did you get out of the Great Hall?" Harry asked. "Did anybody else get out? It is dangerous out here. Oh, and what are you doing out here anyway? The Hall is far more defensible in a situation like this."

Having picked himself up off the floor, the stuttering Professor proceeded with dusting himself off while trying to answer. "Well, I-I-I, I was, I was... I was t-t-try-trying to-to-to..." he suddenly stopped talking altogether as his eyes went wide and making the same sound over and over again. "T-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-tr-tr-tr-tr-tr-tro-tro-tro..."

"Yeah, trolls," Harry nodded. "I know. That's why it is so dangerous out here."

"Um, Harry?" Hermione tugged on his sleeve. "I think he means these trolls."

Harry glanced behind them and saw three mountain trolls, each bigger than the last one, two holding one tree root/branch club each, and the other wielding a stone axe.

"Hm," Harry acknowledged before turning back to the Professor. "You really should have stayed in the Great Hall, sir. I need you to stay here and please don't move. This shouldn't take us too long. Want to help Hermione?"

Smirking, her hands already beginning to glow as she gathered energy, she nodded and replied, "Of course. I'll take the two on the ends. You can take the ugly one in the middle there. And why are you so concerned about people getting out of the Great Hall all of a sudden?"

"If everyone that can't properly defend themselves is in one spot, that makes it easier for those that _can_ defend them _to defend_ them. If over a thousand people are running around creating moving targets for these things, that makes it harder to protect them. With them in the Great Hall, all we have to do is keep the trolls away from the Great Hall. Wow, these things have no patience, do they," he said as the lead troll apparently lost patience and swung its stone axe at him, forcing him to duck and dodge back quickly.

Thankfully, while trolls appeared to be plenty strong and tough, they were as slow as a slug on sedatives compared to the ki fighters, so it was easy to dodge. So long as they were paying attention that is. After all, even the fastest man alive can get distracted and surprised.

Hermione shot a ki and mana blast at each of the two trolls, knocking them back and further down the corridor. She then took to the air and actually ran along the ceiling to avoid Harry and his fight before blasting back down to take them on anew, ki and eldritch energy gathering around her hands as she went.

Harry kept ducking and dodging the troll's swings, making sure to keep in mind the position of himself, Professor Quirrell, and the troll at all times so that the bystander would not get in the path of the threat. After another dozen or so swings, finally, what Harry had been waiting for, the troll's breathing hitched a bit heavier and it was hefting its axe just a bit slower than initially. Grinning, he ducked under another wide swing one last time before moving in like a striking snake, and landed a solid kick to the side of the troll's right knee. There was an audible CRACK! in the corridor, indicating the bone had at the very least been dislocated, broken at the worst. The troll let out a mighty yell, and then, ignoring its injury, threw its axe right at Harry... only to have the weapon sail right through the after-image and embed itself quite deeply into the wall behind it.

The troll swung around, trying to find its prey, determined to unleash its fury on anything nearby, growls erupting from its throat like thunder from a storm. When it had spun all the way around with no sign of its target, it stopped and focused on the fight taking place further down the corridor.

Hermione may not have been the most obvious when it came to her training, but it was clear that the little she had done could be applied to a _lot!_ She was able to use ki blasts of varying strengths, and maintain the beams for several minutes if necessary! She had also managed to make significant progress in understanding her magic that afternoon, enough that she could now draw on it to create mana attacks and even a stable sphere like what Harry had already demonstrated for her. She couldn't create spells with those spheres yet, couldn't even get them to change color and the shape had taken her all day to get right, but still it was progress.

The ki/mana attack she'd used against the first troll had been the fruitful conclusion to the days training. Not that she'd actually constructed the attack or fired it at anything as part of her training, no that part had been made up on the fly when faced with the troll attacking her in the girls bathroom. All she'd done in training was sit there with a ki ball in one hand, and a mana ball in the other and then tried to figure out ways of putting them together. It was like oil and water, didn't truly mix, but it made for a nice pre-step to getting fire-water, so to speak. All she was doing was surrounding a spark of ki with a mana ball and then surrounding that with extra ki to provide propulsion for the attack. Three explosions for the price of two.

The downside of course was the time it took her to gather the energy and prep the attack. With the way she'd put herself in the middle of the two trolls like this, she no longer had that time and it was all she could do to gather energy for standard ki and mana attacks!

That was all she'd been doing with them, running around, jumping and dodging, while firing blasts of golden light with her left hand and blue orbs shooting out of her right hand! Unfortunately, the most this seemed to be doing was knocking the beasts around for a bit, doing little real damage, let alone knocking them out. At this rate, she realized, she would run out of energy before either of them got so much as a bruise!

"Oi," a young voice called from right in front for the troll watching. Surprised, startled, it looked down at its feet, and saw Harry impatiently waiting there. "You going to make me wait all day?"

Growling, the troll lunged for him. He smirked and slammed a blindingly fast uppercut on it, snapping its head back like it was a bobble-head. He was not, however, prepared for when the troll, entirely on instinct, lashed out with its arms, backhanding him into the wall hard enough that he bounced off it.

"Ow," Harry shook his head and grinned savagely at the troll that had landed a hit on him. "So that's how you want to play it, huh?"

He flew forward, inches from the ground, flipping over to slam his feet into the thing's face just as it was getting back up. The force from the blow, while visually disproportionate, was apparently enough to knock the troll back into the opposing wall, but rather than bounce off it, a spider-web crack/crater formed at the point of impact and it stayed there, dazed.

"Maybe I should have spent more time training in how to fight," Hermione said to herself as she dodged one of the trolls wild punches, without attacking back in return. She needed all her remaining energy to keep moving ahead of the things, she could no longer afford firing constant low-level energy blasts at them.

Running around as fast as she could move, the trolls tried to attack in any way they could, mostly with their fists and feet as she'd already destroyed their clubs earlier. One tried a clothesline punch, she slid under it, almost running under the raised foot of the other one just as it was coming down. She narrowly rolled out of the way in time, just as it impacted with the floor. She used the knock-back from the blow to build up momentum in swinging around the other troll and then bouncing off the wall behind it to rocket back up to the ceiling, which she ricocheted off to land a kick against the first one's face, flipping off and kicking the other one too. The trolls roared in mounting anger and frustration and both tried to grab her at the same time. Landing in a three-point stance, she flashed away at the last possible instant, causing the trolls to slam into one another and fall down in a heap.

"On the other hand, there's something to brains over brawn after all," Hermione smirked, enjoying her handiwork.

"Aaarrraaagh!" Harry screamed, punching his troll across the jaw, having to jump up to do it. It took a couple of steps back before managing to catch itself and gave a scream of its own before retaliating with a left cross or two.

He managed to duck under the first one and side-step the next, but the follow-up right uppercut caught him in the chest, sending him flying into the ceiling, the wall, and the the floor. Getting to his knees, Harry tried to shake out the cobwebs that last hit had given him. The troll didn't feel like letting him, so it kicked him while he was still down, sending him flying into the stone wall right next to where Professor Quirrell was cowering.

Quirrell then watched as the boy, not even 12 years old, dug himself out of the wall and brush himself off. He then removed his school robes, which he'd been wearing the whole fight so far, and also unbutton and roll up the sleeves of his uniform shirt. From what he could see with his (twice over) experienced eye, the boy had nothing more severe than some bruising as far as injury went. He looked back at the five inch deep body crater etched into the wall, and then back at the troll that had put the boy there with a single kick, and finally back to the boy, who'd just finished rolling his sleeves up to just under his shoulders. The stuttering professor made a quick decision, after a few moments to argue it over with 'himself', to 'faint' and maybe observe the outcome from the relatively safe sidelines, rather than risk being discovered.

Harry ignored Professor Quirrell fainting in the corner, instead focusing on his quarry. Rolling his neck and shoulders to loosen up a bit, he bounced on his feet a couple times and by the third time had flash stepped forward to resume his fight with the great big ugly brute. The troll, despite having seen Harry get back up from its kick, was still surprised when his fist came into contact with its sternum with sufficient force to shatter even troll bones. It dropped to its knees, struggling to breathe, glaring hatefully at the small creature that had injured it so. Lashing out in spite of the pain, it missed the little human, who ducked under the sloppy attack with contemptuous ease. Growling, the troll launched itself forward from its knees, intending on smothering or just plain smashing him with its sheer bulk.

Harry flash-stepped back, avoiding most of the fast moving smelly creature, but he miscalculated where exactly it would end up. The thing wound up headbutting him back into the wall. Unfortunately that wasn't enough for the enraged troll and it kept trying to get back to its feet and resume the attack, though it was still struggling to get its breath back.

"Oh, that is it," Harry wiped down his front. " **HAAAH**!" he screamed, powering up, ki flame igniting around him as his uncovered muscles bulged noticeably.

At the same moment, just down the hall, Hermione was powering up an even stronger mana/ki attack. That it was flashier than the boy it was trying to body slam was the only reason it drew the troll's attention. What _really_ got its attention, however, was when the big ball of light landed on its brethren, they vanished in an explosion of gore and ash. Feeling fear for the first time since entering the castle unopposed, the troll turned back to face Harry just as he blazed forward in a streak of light.

Harry hit the troll with an uppercut that actually sent it _into_ the ceiling, the only reasoning for why it didn't go through was only magic had somehow reinforced said ceiling to the point it was impossible for the troll to go through it all the way. As it started to fall back down, Harry met it partway in mid-air with a kick that sent it into the opposing wall, but again it didn't go all the way through. By this time though, Harry had started to hold back a bit. He grabbed the troll by the skull, pulled it out of the stone wall, and then started spinning about while holding onto the skull. Soon he and the troll were spinning with a great deal of centrifugal force as Harry executed his father's signature grapple maneuver called the _Dragon Throw_. Screaming now, the troll was helpless to do anything at this point, the forces at work strong enough that it couldn't even pull its arms up to its head, let alone try and get out of the throw. Not until it was let go at any rate, which Harry finally did, sending the troll shooting down the corridor, just in time to collide with the dozen other trolls that had gathered after hearing the shouts of the rest of the tribe here. While they softened the blow, all that really did was keep it conscious long enough for it to realize it had been used to kill or injure its brethren before it passed out and would eventually die from swelling of the brain inside its abused skull.

"Oh good," Harry cheerfully shared with Hermione. "The plan worked. All the rest of them came running when they heard us fighting."

Hermione just sighed and tried not to snip. Instead she walked forward, and looked down at the spot where she'd seen Professor Quirrell faint, to find the only thing there was a scrap of purple cloth. Where had he disappeared to? And if he'd regained consciousness, why didn't he help with the trolls? He was supposed to be the Professor of _Defence_ Against the Dark Arts, wasn't he? Not to mention, how had he and Professor Snape gotten out of the Great Hall if Harry had locked it like he'd said? The whole thing was making her suspicious, and that made her... frustrated.

"Why don't you deal with those, Harry?" she asked, looking around now for any trace of the Professor. "I've already taken care of three and you've only taken out one. You are supposed to be the stronger of us, and I have spent the whole day training. I'll sit this one out and take a break. Have your fun."

Harry smiled and lowered himself to just a foot off the ground. He patted her head and said in a mothering voice, "That's OK. You go ahead and rest. Uncle Harry will take care of the big, ugly, smelly monsters."

Batting his hand away, she struggled to contain her laughter, saying, "Just go already!"

"Ma'am, yes ma'am!" he snapped off a mocking salute and then reignited his ki flame and flashed down the corridor to meet the remaining trolls head on.

 _Great Hall_

"What is the meaning of this, Mister Weasley?" Professor McGonagall demanded of her Fifth Year Prefect. He and all the other Gryffindor Prefects, to say nothing of the Prefects of the other Houses, were standing in front of the still barred doors to the Great Hall, and some of them had physically prevented the teachers from opening those doors.

"We are defending the students and the Great Hall, Professor," the newly appointed Prefect informed his Head of House, with no small amount of trepidation. He feared he would be losing his coveted Prefect Badge come the morrow, but until then, he had a job to do and he would do it with all of his ability.

"By preventing us from getting to safety?" she argued back with well thought out logic.

"By preventing the trolls outside from getting in," he replied, just as the doors were slammed from the outside with enough force to rattle them on their hinges.

"What...?" Professor McGonagall paled and back stepped, all logic gone from her mind.

"The sensors among us have said there are roughly between twenty and twenty-five mountain trolls out there, trying to get in. If we let the students out, some would be lost. So we've decided, all of us, to make our stand here and wait for Harry and Gohan to take out the threat." Percy explained their reasoning.

"Trolls did that?" the Transfiguration teacher gasped.

"Oh, that?" he said as the doors were slammed again, splintering but not breaking one of the beams keeping them closed. "No, that is Hufflepuff First Year, Justin Finch-Fletchley. He's out there to keep them from amassing a true attack on our defense."

"A _First Year_ is out there with over _twenty trolls_?!" she screeched, her Scottish brogue breaking through her accent. "Mister Weasley, you will let me out of this Hall at once or I promise you, you will not enjoy the consequences!"

Percy gulped and looked back at all the others guarding the door with him. Penelope Clearwater, the Ravenclaw Prefect, was speaking with Professor Flitwick the same as Professor McGonagall was doing with him and apparently had come to the same conclusion. The door slammed one final time and then things got oddly quiet on the other side. Percy, Penelope, and the others all nodded at each other and the Gryffindor signalled while shouting out, "Open it up! Power up your strongest attacks to drive them back!" He then followed his own advice and took to the air, charging energy in both hands, preparing a ki beam.

Everyone else likewise prepared for facing off against a hoard of angry trolls the moment the doors would be opened up. Some took to the air and prepared energy attacks like Percy. Others that excelled at the more physical enhancements of ki stayed on the ground and prepared to have to use their fists and feet to beat them back. The adults in the crowd, also the only ones holding wands, prepared for the sight of a dead child, torn limb from limb by the crazed beasts. Professor Dumbledore forced himself to the front of the group, regardless of either of it all, holding his wand before him with clear intention of protecting those under his charge. The students, while powerful in their own right, let him, knowing their limitations.

"Mister Diggory, Miss Tonks, if you'd please open the doors," he commanded. Reluctantly, the two Hufflepuff Prefects, acknowledged the request and lifted the bars holding it closed and then pulled the doors open in a rush, letting in the god awful stench that had accumulated just outside them. Instinctively, everyone recoiled and covered their mouths and faces, squinting as their eyes teared up.

When he could finally stand to look, Dumbledore had fully prepared himself for the absolute worst, but he could honestly say that _nothing_ could have prepared him for what actually was there waiting just outside the Great Hall. There, in the Foyer, amidst a pile of burned, broken, and bleeding troll corpses was Justin Finch-Fletchley, First Year Hufflepuff, one of Harry Son's closest friends, and average student who'd originally planned on going to Eton, it was said. He stood there, his school robes torn, bloody, burned and hanging off him as was the rest of his school uniform beneath them. His face and hands were dirty, smeared with troll blood and black streaks nobody wanted to guess at. Other than that, he did not appear to be injured in any way, quite the opposite as his eyes and expression told Dumbledore that he was feeling quite good, excited even.

Dumbledore had seen people, wizards, friends and enemies both, fall into the lust for battle during the many conflicts he'd been apart of during his long life. What he was seeing in young Justin's eyes was nothing so... simple. Rather, the boy's eyes and face, minus the filth that had accumulated there, reminded him of the many students that had passed through these halls, when they had been working hard and tirelessly to master the skills they endeavored to teach here at Hogwarts, and then when it finally sunk in and they performed it flawlessly for the first time. That is what Dumbledore saw on young Mister Finch-Fletchley's face there in the Foyer amidst a literal battlefield of troll casualties.

"Hey everybody!" he called, smiling, voice calm and even, though somewhat surprised. "What gives? Harry said to keep the doors shut till he got back. I was just keeping busy until he, Malfoy and Ron got back from getting Hermione."

Dumbledore didn't know what to say to that. He couldn't even begin to think of a valid reply.

Thankfully, he didn't have to as Professor Sprout stepped forward to address her wayward badger. "Mister Finch-Fletchley!" she called. "Where is Mister Son and the others now?"

 _Hogwarts Dungeons_

"Why! Won't! It! GO! DOWN!" Draco screamed, unleashing blast after blast with every word.

"Because you keep _bloody_ holding back on it!" Ron yelled back, dodging between the explosions of Draco's blasts and hitting every weak spot on the troll they were fighting that he could reach. So far their tally for the evening was three between the two of them, and three dozen for Gohan. This was, or would be their fourth. If they could actually take it down!

"I! AM! NOT! HOLDING! BACK!" Draco cried out, actually succeeding in pushing the beast back a step with each concussive blast.

"Well, then that's just sad," Ron commented as he jumped up from behind the troll and launched a flying spin kick at the base of the creature's neck. Its eyes comically bulged out briefly, but then rolled up in its head and it collapsed face forward, unconscious.

"OK," Gohan said, clapping his hands clean. "I think that was the last one down here. Let's go check on Harry and see if there are any others. If not, I think we can let everybody out of the Great Hall to go back to their dorms. The dungeons are clear anyway."

"What? But I thought you said there were another twenty or more!" Draco protested, out of breath from using his energy.

"Yeah, there were," Gohan shrugged. "You guys were fighting that one for like, five or six minutes I think. The rest sort of came running when they heard all the noise you were making, so I didn't have to go searching for them like before. You guys OK? You need a minute to rest?"

"Nah, we're good," Ron answered for both, coming down off his own high of being powered up for so long. He was reaching his limit, but he hadn't hit the wall like last time yet. Although he knew it was coming, he just hoped he could eat something before it happened. "Hope there's still some food left at the feast when we get there. Eh, Malfoy?" No answer, or rather no derisive retort, which was odd in and of itself. "Malfoy?"

The boys turned to find the blonde paler than usual and leaning up against the wall for support.

"Malfoy!" they both called, rushing to help him.

"G-get offfff, off of me, st-ssst-stu..." he couldn't talk.

"We need to get some food into him," Ron said, thinking it was what he'd been worried about for himself. It made sense to him, since Draco had been using energy attacks non-stop since this whole little adventure had begun.

"No, it's not that," Gohan said, concerned. "We need to get him to the Hospital Wing. This isn't energy loss, or even exhaustion. He's too cold, and his life force... Ron! Follow after us!"

Hurried, Gohan grabbed the Slytherin in a cradle-hold and then started flying through the dungeon corridors at an accelerated speed. Soon, despite the sharp corners that they were taking, Ron began falling behind, but he raced to at least keep them in sight. He still wasn't that good at sensing energy, unless it was a targeted attack aimed at him, but he trusted his instincts above whatever his brain told him, so even after he eventually lost sight of them, he somehow knew which turns they'd taken and soon enough, about thirty seconds after Draco and Gohan had emerged there, Ron came out at the entrance to the dungeons at the base of the Grand Staircase.

Sure that Gohan had the Draco situation well in hand, Ron instead turned and made his way to the Great Hall, where he was sure everyone else was waiting, or at least would be gathering. He was right in that at least, as he saw the doors open and the students and teachers piling out amidst a whole lot of dead or knocked out troll bodies. Not as surprising, Justin was standing in the middle of said bodies.

"Hey mate!" Ron called as he ran/flew/jumped to his friend. "I take it from the open doors that Harry cleared out all the ones up here?"

"Mister Weasley!" Professor McGonagall shouted, causing the young red haired boy to flinch. "Where on earth have you been? How is it you were out here with-with-with Mister Finch-Fletchley? Have you been injured? Where did all these trolls come from anyway? Professor Quirrell only mentioned the one!"

"Minerva," Professor Dumbledore interrupted with his calming influence of authority. "Give the boy a chance to speak. Mister Weasley?"

"Uh, yes sir?" Ron unconsciously snapped to attention when addressed by the Headmaster.

"Perhaps you might provide us with some answers?" the old wizard gestured to the bodies.

"Oh, right, I mean, yes sir," Ron stopped himself from rambling further and tried to remember his Head of House's questions and to answer them in the proper order. "I wasn't out here with Justin, he decided to stay behind and guard the door from the outside. I went after Harry and Gohan and we found Hermione, uh, Granger, sir. Then we split up, Harry and Hermione taking the upper floors, while me, Gohan and Malfoy, uh... Draco Malfoy, sir, went down to the dungeons to take care of the trolls there."

"Really," the Headmaster made some 'hm' noises while stroking his beard. Ron wasn't sure if it was a comment, a question, or a statement indicating he should continue. Then he remembered the part about them asking if he was hurt.

"Oh," Ron held up his wrapped hand, "I'm not hurt too bad, just my hand when I knocked out a troll. And I'm not sure where all of them came from. Harry and Gohan said there were nearly fifty already in the castle by the time we caught up with them. Where are they anyway?"

"How'd you knock it out?" Justin asked, trying to be quiet.

"Knock what out?" Ron shot him a confused look. When the Hufflepuff pointed at his hand, his eyes lit up. "Oh! I, uh, I hit it on the head. With my fist. Did manage to knock it out, but it hurt like a... uh, it really hurt."

"Yeah, always go for the eyes or the throat on these things. Or the back of the neck. Learned the hard way myself that the top part of their skulls might be mostly empty, but they're the hardest part on them." Justin commented, showing off his own injuries.

"How many did you bag?" he asked, smirking at the pile of bodies around them.

Ron grimaced and had to admit the Hufflepuff was pretty awesome for the feat he'd performed in defending the Great Hall that night. "Only four. But then I was working with Malfoy at the time, so it was shared bagging. Not that he'll admit it. Probably say he bagged all of'em while I cowered in the corner or something. Gohan did most of the heavy lifting. Took out what had to be half of them just by himself."

"You know... you could have lied and said you got at least one on your own," Justin said, suddenly feeling uncomfortable, like he'd been gloating.

Ron shrugged. "Why bother? Just means I have to train harder either way. How did you take all these out yourself anyway?"

"Well I..." Justin started to say, but was interrupted.

"If I may interrupt," the Headmaster spoke. "Gentlemen, where would the young Mister Sons be, by any chance? I see neither Harry nor Gohan present here. And you are the only ones to have seen them last. For that matter, where is Miss Granger and Mister Malfoy?"

"Oh, Malfoy collapsed from using too much energy, so Gohan flew him up to the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomphrey should take care of him, no problem," Ron shrugged off their concerns.

"Except, Mister Weasley," Professor McGonagall said, losing patience, "that Madam Pomphrey is down _here_ with the rest of us because we've been locked in the Great Hall by Mister Finch-Fletchley!"

"Well, how did Professors Snape and Quirrell get out then?" Hermione asked as she floated down from the level above them, Harry right above her.

"Miss Granger!" Professor Flitwick exclaimed. "Where have you been? What's going on?"

"I'm sorry Professor," the young Raven apologized, "but it is a rather long story. We only just finished with the last of the mountain trolls upstairs. While dealing with them, we came across both Professor Snape and Professor Quirrell. Didn't they return here?"

"No, it would appear they have not," Professor Flitwick commented after looking around.

"Mister Son, what is the meaning of superseding our authority in such a manor?" Professor McGonagall demanded of the worn, bloody and bruised young man. The only part of him unmarked was his pants, but that was only because they were black and nobody could see the dirt and stains.

"No offence, Professor, or to you Headmaster," Harry said tiredly, rubbing the back of his neck, "but you were going to have all the students go _through_ the castle to each of their dorms, am I correct in this assumption?"

"That is the standard procedure for if there is ever a threat to the school or student body," Professor Sprout spoke up.

"The threat in this case being a troll. In the dungeons," Harry continued.

"Yes," all the Professors agreed.

"Where the Slytherin dorms are," he added.

They each, even Dumbledore, opened their mouths to say something, but the seconds continued to pass and none of them were saying anything. Harry nodded and smiled patronizingly at them.

"Also, as you can see," he gestured to the killed and/or knocked out trolls around them still, "there was in fact more than just one single, solitary troll. And your plan was to, after putting the students in harms way, to split up and each of you search a different part of the dungeon, after the trolls had made their way up the Grand Staircase and were in fact all over the castle grounds? Question, how many of you can take on a fully grown mountain troll with no difficulty whatsoever?"

Ironically, the hands that were raised came from the students, and Professors Dumbledore, Flitwick and McGonagall only.

"How many of those that raised their hands, could handle fifty of those same trolls? Not necessarily all at once," he clarified.

His own hand, Hermione's, and Justin's hands were the only ones still in the air.

"Professors," Harry spoke, his tone serious and no longer light. "Take whatever points you want to. Hand out whatever punishments you need to. My actions, the actions of my brother and our friends... they were to save lives and protect the people of this school. I choose to believe, Headmaster, that you were acting out of fear and based on existing protocol and that was the reason for your choices. And that is perfectly OK. Everybody gets scared, fear is a part of life. I was afraid plenty when facing these trolls, albeit my fear was aimed at the fact that they had gotten into the Great Hall and were hurting people and I wasn't there to stop it."

"My reason for superseding your authority, Professor, was that you reacting out of fear would have gotten people killed, at the very least hurt," Harry turned away from them. "I chose to take action, not out of fear, but from experience and knowledge. I knew what was out there, how many there were, and where they were. And I know it is easier to protect one defensible location than it is to run around all over the place trying to protect multiple targets. Now."

Harry turned and faced Ron and asked him, "What is this I hear about Malfoy collapsing?"

"Not to worry, bro!" Gohan's voice came from behind them. "I picked up Madam Pomphrey on my way to the Hospital Wing. She's taking a look at him now. His energy seemed to be crashing, but it was different. Like... like his magic and his ki were fighting each other all of a sudden. So, did we get them all?"

"Yep," Harry answered. "Thanks in no small part to Justin here for watching the Great Hall."

"Aw guys, I-I wasn't exactly alone. The others were all on the inside, keeping the trolls from getting in behind me is all," Justin tried to downplay his role.

"Well," Professor Dumbledore said, breaking the mood somewhat. "All's well that ends well, I always say. Yes, perhaps there is truth in what you were saying, Mister Son, but best not to, er, not to _dwell_ on the past, merely learn from it. Nevertheless, I do hope that in any future altercations such as these, that you might perhaps take the time to at least discuss any needed actions before taking them, with either myself or other nearby Professors."

"I would be happy to, Professor," Harry replied honestly, Gohan also nodding along and saying, "Right!"

"Just so long as all the Professors keep in mind that I personally knocked out or killed over two dozen mountain trolls this evening, and I wasn't even being serious about it," he continued smiling, but it was clear that he wasn't just blindly accepting Dumbledore's word to let the Professors handle him from that statement.

"Of course," Professor Dumbledore said, eyes twinkling. "I sincerely doubt that any of us will forget that any time soon. And to ensure that, I believe some points need to be reallocated."

"N-now Albus, surely you can't mean to punish every student in the castle for the actions of a few!" Professor Sprout stepped forward, seeing as it had been one of her Hufflepuffs blocking the door and would undoubtedly receive some of the blame as she saw it.

"Punish? My dear Pomona, it is fully my intention to award ten points each to every student that acted to protect those in the Great Hall, whether that action was to merely sit and wait calmly, or to actually lock the door and prevent it from being opened unnecessarily. As for Mister Finch-Fletchley, Mister Weasley, Mister Malfoy, and Miss Granger. Fifty points each, for special service to the school. Mister Son, Mister Son, since you are absentia from the Point System, permit me to just say, thank you. Thank you both very much for what you have done and preventing what could have been a major disaster. Thank you."

"Uh," both boys were blushing now, scratching the back of their heads in embarrassment. "Your welcome," they both mumbled, eyes lowered.

"Now then, I believe we still have a feast to get back to!" he called to the amassed student body. Amidst the cheers, he leaned over and whispered to a still stunned McGonagall, "Minerva, please have the House Elves... clean all this up, would you? Thank you my dear."

With that said, Professor Dumbledore actually lead the way back into the Great Hall to resume their interrupted Halloween Feast. The man was an absolute party animal by reputation, and it was a reputation well deserved the students all discovered that evening.

END "Episode 10: Hogwarts Halloween(Part 2)"

* * *

AN: OK, its my own fault, for naming names and replying in an Author's Note in the first place, but honestly people! If you * _want_ * a reply to the Reviews you leave me for this story, you _need_ To Sign IN! Otherwise, I can't Reply! PMing works too! Promise! Also, some of the more recent, er... 'ideas' that have been leaving for me? Absolutely NOT related to *this* Story. Rather seems like a Fic-Request for a whole *Other* Story. Given the requests, I'll see what I can do in regards to a minor "Slayers" cross/tie-in. I've got the "Nanoha" tie-in already written, but in a later chapter. As for the requests regarding "styles" of magic... *shrug* It's Hogwarts. May as well assume that it is all part of the Education. In particular the "Ancient Runes", "Arithmancy", "Charms" and "History of Magic" portions. As far as Harry performing any "rituals" on himself...? We'll see, but definitely not in this "* ** _First_** _*_ " Story here. Maybe by the latter half of the Second or Third, which will cover the events of " _The Chamber of Secrets_ " and " _The Prisoner of Azkaban_ " respectively. Anyway...

Thanks For Reading! Please Review! And SIGN-IN When You Do!

Unless, of course, y'know, you _don't want_ me to reply to your Review...


	11. Hogwarts Quidditch

Episode 11: "Hogwarts Quidditch"

(AN: Fair warning, this is a Filler Chapter. Purely for character development and timeline progression. No real fighting, no major plot twists, no huge accomplishments. Skip if you want to. Oh! Bit of a Disclaimer, also several direct quotes from JK Rowling's book " _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_ " Chapter 11. Huh. Funny coincidence that, isn't it? _)_

Things had changed after Halloween. In that everybody chalked up the entire troll invasion as a typical Halloween at Hogwarts and nobody was making any more negative remarks about most of the student body training themselves to use ki. Also, Harry and Gohan both gave up their own pretences and started actually training people again—just not as huge classes or groups. Individual training. Scheduled and managed by their friends, who all happen to be in each of the four Houses. Well, except for Slytherin that is.

Surprisingly, out of the entire House, it was one of the older students in Slytherin that came to them. None of the First Years came to Harry or Gohan except to fight—and that was just Draco. Well... actually, there was one exception; Pansy Parkinson.

She actually approached them with true honesty, which was another change in and of itself as far as the rest of the school was concerned. She openly admitted that she was training purely to get more power. What was not as commonly known was her answer when Harry asked her what she would do with that power. Not even Gohan had heard what her response was, but whatever it was, Harry personally started training her and she quickly started making as much progress as his other friends.

As for the teachers and Headmaster, they acknowledged the students extracurricular activities the same way any normal school would do the same, by allowing them time but keeping the focus on their studies and insisting that said studies come first before any such extracurricular activities in priority. A prime example was when Professor Flitwick himself, arguably the girl's biggest fan amongst the staff, gave Hermione detention for skipping out on her classes—to train instead—on Halloween day. Regardless of the facts that if Hermione _hadn't_ , she probably would have been unable to defend the school, let alone herself and most likely would have been severely injured if not killed. Nevertheless, the point was made.

Hermione's first ever academic punishment was the absolute worst thing she could ever remember happening to her, but that had more to do with the shame she felt from her teachers lecture than the actual punishment, which was to demonstrate and allow the Professor to adequately document her newly discovered abilities at harnessing her mana. A project she actually would have quite enjoyed and volunteered for in any other circumstance, but again the shame of it being her punishment made it very nearly unbearable.

The other Professors dealt with their respective students in their own way, some better than others. Professor Sinistra in particular found it intolerable when nobody used the stairs to get to her lessons anymore. Thankfully, Dumbledore kept her from giving detention to them all.

As for the Headmaster, he tried once more—only once more—to speak to Harry and Gohan about trying to curb the other students enthusiasm for the martial arts. Between the two of them, they constructed a rational, logical, and realistic argument why it was better they be fully trained and decide not to use it, than if the day came when they all needed it and couldn't use it for whatever reason. Professor Dumbledore never again asked them to stop training the other students.

Professor Snape, while in class, was his usual horrid self, but outside of it, he never said one word about Harry, Gohan and their friends basically saving the school. Which was odd in and of itself. Yet, aside from saying as much, nobody gave it much thought. Except for Hermione. She saw it as further evidence of suspicious behaviour.

One day, after she was finishing up her detention with Professor Flitwick, she walked past an open door and at first it was just a glance but then she stopped and went back for a better look. Professor Snape was having Mister Filch take a look at his leg, which had a bloody awful injury on it, in the form of a dog bite. A very _big_ dog bite.

The men immediately noticed her presence and the door basically slammed in her face, but she'd seen enough. Between that and having seen him running through the halls _straight_ for the forbidden corridor, when he should have been locked in the Great Hall with everybody else, Hermione soon became convinced that their Potions Professor was, for some reason, after whatever was hidden down there. And Professor Quirrell was probably in on it too.

When she confided in Harry and their friends about her suspicions, he didn't laugh it off, but neither did he join her in her conspiracy. Which was frustrating to no end!

"You know what this means, don't you?" she insisted. "He tried to get past that three headed dog at Halloween! That's where he was going when we saw him—he's after whatever it's guarding! Possibly he could have let the trolls in as a diversion! Or he could have gotten Professor Quirrell to do it, they could be working together."

"Professor Quirrell? Really?" Harry gave her an incredulous look.

"OK, you have a point there, then perhaps Professor Quirrell saw Snape leave the Great Hall and followed him and tried to stop him? But no, that doesn't make sense either," she bit her lip as she tried to mull the details of her conspiracy over.

"Hermione, if you hadn't seen them with your own eyes, what would you be saying to me if I came at you with this idea?" Harry tried to derail her further.

She snorted and rolled her eyes and said, "I would probably say something along the lines of, 'I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe.' But this isn't about Snape being nice! It's about him and Professor Quirrell being in places they really shouldn't have been!"

"Well, maybe you're over-thinking things," Harry suggested. "Maybe Snape knows some secret way out of the Great Hall, and Quirrell came to just as Snape used it to get out, and then followed him... to get back to the safety of his own office?"

"Well, that would explain Professor Quirrell, and he came upon us before he could get that far," she admitted. "But that still does not explain Snape going straight to the forbidden corridor several minutes earlier! But why would he want it in the first place? What is hidden down there? Harry! You've been down there! Besides a security troll, what all else is down there? What is all of that protecting?"

"I don't know," Harry shrugged. "A bunch of stuff. I never paid that much attention to it in the first place. I think it was originally some kind of game corridor, because it has all this stuff that Ron likes and is trying to convince us are fun games."

Hermione frowned. Unfortunately that didn't really allow her to narrow down the options. "Such as?" she inquired.

"Brooms, like in that Quidditch game he's trying to convince us to go see. A chess set. But that's after a fun little slide-drop thing, like you'd expect at a fun house or playground. Then some flaming lights, again like you'd expect from a fun house, before getting to the room that has the secret passage back to the kitchens. I think the Headmaster just made the whole thing forbidden so people would go through the elaborate gaming corridor again."

"Uh huh," she remarked absently. If nothing else, she'd already been convinced that what Harry and his brother found 'fun and harmless' could very well be quite serious and lethal to the ordinary wizard. Not to mention, she had little doubt that only Harry and his family could get past that dog in the first place!

"Ugh," Harry groaned suddenly, "Speak of the devil. Hey Ron, what has you so excited this blustery winter morning?"

Hermione looked up. Today Harry was sitting at the Hufflepuff table, and she'd joined him as a matter of course. That was another of the things that had changed, nobody much cared about the House divisions anymore, not in the public areas of the school at least. Ron was walking up to them, a huge grin on his face, Neville trailing along behind, no grin.

"Are you kidding?" Ron exclaimed in the face of Harry's question. "You are kidding, right? Today is the first Quidditch match of the season! Gryffindor versus Slytherin! We're going to cream those snakes!"

"Uh huh," Harry's eyes had glazed over and he was focusing more on his food than what Ron was saying.

"You're all coming of course," the redhead stated with impunity.

 _That_ got everyone's attention. "What?!" they all shouted together, even Neville, who'd hoped to ask Harry and Hermione for some training tips so he could get out of it.

"Uh, why?" Gohan asked, ever the honest one.

"Why?!" Ron repeated, incredulous. "Why? Why only because Quidditch is the greatest sport _ever_ invented! Come on! It'll be fun!"

Gohan snorted, commenting under his breath, "Not if you believe Yamcha about baseball."

"Or Dean Thomas about football," Neville added, proving he hadn't been as quiet as he thought.

"Or my father about basketball," Hermione sighed long-sufferingly.

"Or just about any man or woman about _their_ sport," Harry ended the trend before it could go any farther. "But Quidditch isn't even something the rest of us have ever seen, Ron. You can understand our reluctance, right?"

"So come see just how awesome it is!" he begged them.

Harry winced. He'd walked right into that one. He sighed and shrugged, throwing up his hands in defeat. "Fine. I'll come. Won't speak for everybody else, but I'll at least give it a chance." Quietly he added under his breath, "Still bringing a book though in case it's as boring as I expect it to be."

"Great! You won't regret it!" Ron exclaimed.

"Bet I will," he muttered, rubbing away the phantom headache he felt coming on.

"Might as well," Gohan grumbled.

"I have better things to do with..." Hermione started to say, but warning looks from Harry, Gohan and Neville forced her to reevaluate her word choice, "...with my time than... staying... inside... all day." She sighed, expression matching the others. "I'll come too. Though I don't see why I have to. It's Gryffindor and Slytherin, not Ravenclaw."

Ron ignored her protests and soon had everyone else convinced and saying they were coming, though they'd all rather be studying or training on a Saturday. By 11 o'clock, seemingly the whole school had migrated to the Quidditch Pitch and filled in the stands of the unique magical stadium. Many students had binoculars, or the magical equivalent. Apparently despite the stands being so high up, it was difficult to keep track of what was going on during a game sometimes.

The motley crew from all four houses joined Ron and Neville's other roommates, Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas, the Football fan, up at the top row of the Gryffindor stands. There were four towers, one for each of the Houses. Below and between them was the oval shaped Pitch with the goal posts, three on either side. Madam Hooch was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field waiting for the two teams, her broom in her hand.

"Now, I want a nice fair game, all of you," she could be heard saying, once they were all gathered around her. Harry noticed that she seemed to be speaking particularly to the Slytherin Captain, Marcus Flint, the burly Fifth Year that had tried to cheat Neville during initial training. Only Ron and Seamus around them seemed to get excited as the final preparations began for the game to actually begin. The rest were doing their best to stave off boredom.

"Mount your brooms, please!"

Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle.

Fifteen brooms rose up high into the air. They were off.

Lee Jordan was giving commentary from the front of the Gryffindor tower. "And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor—what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too—"

"JORDAN!" Professor McGonagall shouted, practically in his ear.

"Sorry, Professor," he quickly apologized.

"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve—back to Johnson and—no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes—Flint flying like an eagle up there—he's going to sc- no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle—that's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and—OUCH!—that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger—Quaffle taken by the Slytherins—that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger—sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which—nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes—she's really flying—dodges a speeding Bludger—the goal posts are ahead—come on, now, Angelina—Keeper Bletchley

dives—misses—GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"

Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.

Up in the stands, Harry and Gohan exchanged looks, before turning to examine their other friends. Justin and Neville were keeping their eyes on the game, though they weren't as... excited about it as Ron was, it was clear there was at least an interest for them. Hermione on the other hand had already picked up her book and was casually flipping through it, only occasionally glancing up before rolling her eyes in disgust.

Harry sighed, and said to his brother, "This is going to be hard."

"Oh? How do you figure?" Gohan asked.

"Look at how _slow_ they're moving! And they're relying on those _brooms_ to fly, when every single one of them could fly faster without even trying! This. Is. So. Boring," he stated, highlighting it with one more big sigh.

Gohan laughed, earning an angry look from his brother, but that didn't stop him. He did explain though by saying, "Harry, you say that about _all_ sports! Remember that baseball game of Yamcha's we went to? You said practically the same things about Yamcha in that game. You promised to come. Deal with it bro."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but couldn't think of anything to refute it, so he just huffed, crossed his arms and settled in for the long haul. Until a flash of gold caught his eye. While Gohan was distracted by Slytherin shooting a Bludger at the Gryffindor Seeker, and the poor girl nearly falling off her broom in effort to avoid it, Harry flashed away from his seat for just an eye blink and was back before anyone, even Gohan, had noticed. He did turn and give the green-eyed boy a suspicious glare, but saw nothing to incriminate him, so didn't say anything.

"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan was saying, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the—wait a moment—was that the Snitch?"

A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had caught his eye. Katie, however, wasn't distracted in the slightest and caught it before making a run at the Slytherin goals. The Seekers of both teams were zigzagging all over the place, trying to catch sight of the illusive Snitch, but as it turned out...

"Oh, sorry about that folks!" Lee apologized to the crowd. "Fred—George, whichever, take off the gold watch, would you? Chaser Bell has possession and is making her way unopposed to the Slytherin goal posts, oh sorry about that, has _made_ the goal on the Slytherin Keeper!"

Harry yawned and leaned back in his seat, staring up at the clouds, hands behind his head. Nobody noticed the flutter coming from beneath his robes, and if they did, they blamed it on the wind and how he was laying back. Deciding to treat the whole thing the same way he did his 'detentions', as a training opportunity, Harry opened up with his senses and meditated on improving his skill with sensing and tracking energy, both magical and non-magical. His eyes unfocused, drifting along with the clouds, aware of the ebb and flow of life and magic all around him. He could sense the magic in the brooms, in the people around him, and especially in the little winged golden ball stuck in his back pocket. The enchantments on it were... interesting, to say the least.

Memory flesh, animated wings, sensory magic, and what could be runes that alternated the magic like the circuits on a computer chip. Probably a program, or the magical equivalent, that randomized what direction it was flying in at what time and all that. Good thing he'd grabbed the thing with his robes. The moment it made contact with human flesh, it would send out a signal to end the game. He figured it was... fitting that everybody else be made to feel as bored with this whole thing as he was. The only way to make that happen though, he figured, was to have them keep playing _until_ they gave up and got bored with it.

Ron had already told them that it had happened where a single Quidditch game went on for _days_ , so that both teams had to keep switching out players so they could rest and eat. Harry seriously doubted that Dumbledore would allow it to go on for _that_ long, given how he preached about keeping the students safe and whatnot.

An hour later, the scoring had gotten rather ridiculous, as Gryffindor lead, despite Slytherin's rather blatant cheating on all fronts, giving Gryffindor plenty of penalty shots, which they made every one, but as good as Wood and the Chasers were, they couldn't keep the Quaffle out of the other team's hands forever and Wood was bound to miss at least a few shots every now and then. Still, aside from the false alarm with George's watch, there had been neither hide nor feather of the Snitch.

Harry was still staring up at the clouds, meditating. Hermione had finished one book and was starting another, no longer looking up from it at all. Justin and Neville, and a few others, had resorted to playing Exploding Snap and other one-on-one Wizarding games there on the benches. Gohan had also finally given in and pulled out a book of his own and was idly flipping through it next to Hermione. Ron though, he was still struck by the game play and wasn't missing a second of it.

Two hours after that, more than half those that had originally come to the game had trickled back up to the school or just wandered off to do other things. Harry had actually been one of the first to leave, getting "permission" from Ron first of course. Hermione, Gohan and half of those in the Gryffindor stands actually, soon followed after, leaving only Lee Jordan, Professor McGonagall, and the die hardcore Quidditch fans like Ron. It was still enough to fill every bench with at least two people each.

Being careful not to let it touch his skin, Harry put the trapped Snitch into a glass jar in his and Gohan's room, making sure to leave the window open, that way it would look like it had somehow drifted in and trapped itself. Just in case. Then he went back outside to train with Hermione, Gohan, Justin and Neville.

Another few hours later, they were heading back inside, surprised to see some people still in the stands and the game still going on. Neville couldn't help asking, "What do you think happened to the Snitch?"

"We care about that, why?" Harry couldn't stop himself from saying, the little bit of guilt he was feeling making his tone sound harsh.

"Well, they can't end the game without it, from what I hear," Justin said.

"Says who?" Harry exclaimed. "They can stop playing any time they want. Dumbledore won't let it go past sundown. He'll force them to stop, for their own safety. We're school children for crying out loud. There is no reason to expect school children to play by the same rules as consummate professionals."

"You stole it, didn't you?" Gohan accused with a sigh.

"It's _boring_!" Harry shouted, defending himself. "They'll all see when they force themselves to sit there and keep watching the game go on for so long. Besides, it practically flew right up to me. And you do get that I was _bored_ , right? It's just a harmless prank."

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, "I cannot believe you would do something like that!"

"Yeah, that's more like something the Weasley Twins would do, only... they never prank Quidditch," Neville commented. "Or so I hear anyway."

"Well, I'm sure they'll get a laugh out of it after they finally stop flying around on those things," he shrugged, the guilt surging a bit more.

"Give it back, Harry," Gohan ordered.

"I don't have it," he answered sullenly.

"I said," Gohan growled, grabbing the boy by the collar and forcefully turning him around, "Give. It. Back!"

"I left it in our room under a jar!" Harry yelled in his face, tearing himself out of the half-saiyan's grasp. "It's probably already gotten out by now anyway, I left the window open!"

"Hn," Gohan sneered, angry at his brother and turned away.

"I can't believe you would do something like this, Harry," Hermione mournfully remarked.

"Yeah, well," Harry ducked his head, avoiding her gaze. "I was bored. I'll apologize to everyone later." Silent, he shuffled into the castle, feeling the burn of her gaze the whole way.

To everyone's surprise however, the Quidditch game was not halted at sundown. Instead torches and other magical light sources were ignited and put all around the pitch. Professor Dumbledore, though worried, was not stopping the game like Harry, not to mention everyone else, had expected. Dinner was being served and Gohan had long since thrown the Snitch out of the open window, but it had flown off who knows where. He couldn't even say that it had gone in the direction of the game, as all he'd done was picked up the jar and 'tossed' the contents out into the open air without touching it directly.

The points had actually gotten into the thousands by the time dinner was over, though Gryffindor still had a hefty lead. Ron, and a few other die hard fans, hadn't once left their seats, some of them getting friends to go and get food for them when their hunger became a distraction. The actual Quidditch teams had used their time outs to rest and get food for themselves, and after it had gone into its second hour with no sign of the Snitch, Dumbledore had permitted each team to gain an extra time out for every hour that passed them by.

Disgusted, Harry finally tracked down the Snitch—it was stuck in a crow's nest in the forest—wrapped it up in his robes and took off for the still ongoing game. Flying, rather then climbing, up the stadium tower, Harry appeared before the Headmaster, fists on his hips.

"And you called me irresponsible!" the eleven-year-old shouted at the one-hundred-and-nine-year-old. "Or at least strongly implied it! Why are you allowing this to go on? Screw the fact that I could _literally_ play this game, all positions, in my sleep—it's so boring! There are maybe _three_ children—at most—playing that are older than sixteen, let alone seventeen, the age of majority for wizards! The rest are younger than that by _YEARS_! You should have called this game at sundown, not lit barely visible torches here and there!"

"The Snitch has yet to be found, Mister Son," Professor McGonagall stated, a bit on edge after the very long and tiring day, but still coming to her employer's defence. "If you knew anything about the rules of this... boring game as you call it, then you would know the game cannot end until the Snitch is found and caught. Until that happens, the rules are clear. And as you can see, the Snitch has not been caught."

"THAT'S BECAUSE I STOLE IT!" Harry screamed, releasing the flying gold ball from his robes. For the first time since catching it, he reached out and grabbed it with his bare hands. The horn ending the game finally sounded and no further points awarded.

"You... you... you..." McGonagall was so furious that she couldn't even speak.

"If you'd come in like I expected, I would have returned it and apologized and taken any punishment you said I deserved!" Harry shouted at them. "Instead, _instead_ you keep this travesty of a game going far past where anybody with real sense would have stopped! As bad as what I did, _you lot_ made it worse by far!"

Unexpectedly, the teachers, even Professor Dumbledore himself, winced and cringed at his accusations. They'd known something was wrong after the first hour. Never in all the history of the game being played at Hogwarts had _any_ game gone past one hour. Halfway through the second, each of the Professors tried to subtly summon the Snitch to them. Even Professor Dumbledore, with his unique wand and greater knowledge and power, on a "bathroom break" had tried every means of retrieving the Snitch he could think of. Nevertheless, Professor McGonagall was correct in that the rules were quite clear, the game doesn't end until the Snitch is caught. That was their reasoning anyway.

"You... stole, the Snitch, Mister Son?" Dumbledore asked.

"Yes! Obviously!" Harry held the gold ball up under the old man's long and crooked nose.

"How?" came the next question, eyes twinkling as he smiled beneath his beard.

"While I was sitting in the stands, obviously!" the angry boy exclaimed. "Gohan looked away for a couple seconds, I saw where the bloody thing was, grabbed it in my robes and then sat on it, and I mean I was sitting with it between me and the bench seat, until the others finally realized how boring this _game_ is and I left it in my room since then!"

"Ah," Dumbledore frowned, while thinking, 'That explains it. The First Tower is just outside the range of the Summoning spell from this location.'

"Brilliant mate," Fred said, flying over to see what the commotion was, and having heard what Harry did.

"Bloody brilliant!" George agreed, coming in on the other side. "Why'd you have to go and end it so soon, mate? You had a great run going. Best prank seen this year so far!"

"Because it was supposed to be a _harmless_ prank!" he turned a glare on the adults. "If there was decent lighting I might have actually let it go to dawn, just to see if they would take it that far, but instead the only thing you do is light some torches that _barely_ light up the space a few feet around them, and have the older students cast a couple light spells for themselves! I get that me and my family have a skewed view of what is and isn't really harmful, but this takes the cake! At least we know what we can do!"

"Ah, no harm Harry," Fred chuffed the younger wizard on the shoulder. "Just a few extra splinters here and there. And some broom sore. Wood's training... well, OK, Wood's training has never gone on for this long, but that's what makes it a great prank!"

"Why did you guys keep playing for so long anyway?" Harry asked, still 'standing' in mid-air before the Professors.

"The game plays until the Snitch is caught," they both answered as one. "That's the rules."

"For _PROFESSIONAL_ Quidditch!" Harry screamed. "This is _supposed_ to be a _SCHOOL_ sport! Which means it does not follow the same rules, because guess what! School children don't get held up to the same expectations as adults do! And before _any_ of you," he turned and pointed at the adults, "say something about my abilities and what I've shown everyone else had to do, consider this. If this had happened anyway, would you still have kept the game going, making children keep playing at the same level as adults, whether I'd come to Hogwarts and shown everyone just how capable they could be? Something else to consider, how would this game have been played if they _didn't_ play on those pathetic enchanted things?"

"Pathetic?!" Madam Hooch exclaimed, having landed in the stadium tower to stand next to the other Professors.

"Fred! George! Drop those things, _NOW_!" Harry ordered, not bothering to look to see if they'd obeyed or not.

The Weasley twins shot each other a glance, shrugged then dismounted while still in mid-air next to Harry, and then let their brooms fall to the floor of the tower in front of them. They remained exactly where they were in the space before them. Harry then 'flashed' to the box where the Bludgers were kept and grabbed one of them, easily keeping it held in one hand, startling some of the adults there when he 'flickered' and was then seen holding the potentially lethal flying iron ball.

"Still got your bats?" Harry asked. "Don't hold back, just hit them back and forth between yourselves. And do not hold back!" He threw the Bludger at Fred, at such a velocity that it had no opportunity to change direction or alter its own momentum.

"Whoa!" Fred leaped back in the air and instinctively swung his bat at it, aiming it at George.

"I SAID DON'T HOLD BACK!" Harry screamed at George.

"Bugger," George muttered under his breath while channelling his ki into his arm and into the Beater Bat in his hand. When he hit the Bludger, it was with over ten times as much force as the old piece of school property ever had been hit with in the number of years it had been in use. It was dented immediately and flew at just this side of the speed of sound back at Fred, who hit it with double the amount of force. In an ever increasing tableau of speed and force, the two Gryffindor Beaters basically played three dimensional ping pong with the Bludger, and before too long the speed at which it was moving made it so it was nearly invisible to the untrained eye. Then George's bat broke hitting it, and Fred's in the return shot. Harry's hand snapped out even faster than the Bludger was moving and caught it, though not without considerable and visible strain on the younger boy's part. He even brought up his second hand to help hold it after the initial catch, his muscles bulging briefly as he used his energy to arrest that of the magically enchanted object. When he revealed it, it no longer tried to fly off, its metal was so horribly warped it looked more like a paper wad made of iron rather than the true sphere it was supposed to be.

"Can Professional Quidditch players do that?" Harry asked, disgusted. He tossed the worthless scrap of iron at the feet of the teachers. Teachers who'd just learned a hard lesson.

"Harry..." Professor Dumbledore tried to say, but a scathing look from the angry boy stopped him. "Mister Son, you have made your point. Nevertheless, your actions this evening..."

"My actions?!" Harry repeated. " _MY_ actions? My actions were that of an eleven-year-old boy bored with his situation and trying to play a harmless joke on his classmates, something that should have warranted a detention or similar punishment! _YOUR_ actions, however..."

He flew back away from the tower and turned toward the castle. Over his shoulder he said, "Your actions make mine moot, Professor. Assign whatever punishments you want. I will _not_ be attending them. And I believe I've proved more than once that there is not a single thing you can do to make me. And by all means, bring my mother and father into this. If you pull that card, I'll take the punishment, but I will _never_ respect any of you _ever_ _again_! Good night!"

With that said, he flew back to the castle at his top speed, the trail of his ki flame lighting up the night more than any of the torches or lumos spells had all evening. The Golden Snitch, in his wake as the trail slowly faded, fluttered back and landed in Professor Dumbledore's lap.

 _Hogwarts_

 _December, First Year_

Harry was not punished. In the end, after a lengthy time away visiting with the Board of Governors, Professor Dumbledore finally announced a change of the rules for Quidditch at Hogwarts. They would no longer play until the Snitch was caught, or rather if the Snitch _wasn't_ caught, then they would play for exactly one hour, and then after that the team with the most points—the Snitch's 150 points not applied of course—would be declared the winner.

Also, every member of every Quidditch Team, even the Slytherin team, pestered Harry and Gohan, (the Slytherins went to Gohan rather than Harry), until they finally agreed to train them in more... subtle uses of their new abilities. After all, Fred and George didn't want to have to keep replacing Beater Bats, and no one wanted to see what would happen to them if they were ever hit by a Bludger hit that hard. Not to mention each of the Seekers wanted to learn how Harry had tracked and caught the Snitch so quickly, which lead to energy sensing and tracking lessons.

Mostly this consisted of talking and then practicing. For sensing, that was mostly just trying to identify and focus on one spark of energy amidst everything around them and then tracking it. For control, well, there was nothing to it except getting a bat and a ball and having them hit it, practicing using their ki to boost the shot until they had it just right. This was all done, of course, during the teams normal practice times. But all Harry and Gohan had to do was show up, tell them how to do what they wanted to do, and then leave them to practice on their own.

Harry, meanwhile, had to deal with his friends reactions to what he'd done, which was almost worse than any real punishment. On the bright side, he found himself with more time to study and for solo-training. On the other hand, that rut of boredom was what he was trying to avoid in the first place by teaching his skills to the other students.

Eventually they realized they were just as miserable, if not more so, as they were making Harry with ignoring and avoiding him. So, after only three days of the silent treatment, Hermione, Justin, Neville and Ron cornered him after class and told him there was only one way he was going to earn their forgiveness. Especially Ron's, since he was the only one of them really hung up on how Harry found Quidditch so boring.

He had to teach them one of his special techniques, and not in a way where 'everybody' could learn about it either. Gohan, who'd forgiven Harry that night when he'd witnessed the teachers make the prank so much worse than it should have been, didn't have a problem with it and even offered to throw in some of his own techniques, as their avoiding Harry meant they avoided him too.

"I'll agree," Harry told them, "on the added stipulation that I don't get needlessly blamed for when my harmless pranks get blown way out of proportion by unknown third parties."

"You won't be—!" Hermione started to say, but Neville silenced her with a hand on her shoulder and a stern look that said not to be unreasonable.

"Accepted," Justin answered for her and nodded, holding out his hand to shake on it. "We'll always have your back Harry. Even for something as insignificant as a prank!"

"All right, let's do this," Harry sighed. "Come on!" He took off towards the mountains through the air. "We are not doing this anywhere near the school! You're the ones that said you didn't want to be spied on!"

Gohan just shrugged at them and followed his brother into the sky. One by one, the others followed. They went a lot further than they ever had for training before. They actually went over the mountains until Hermione was quite certain they were no longer in the hidden valley where Hogwarts and Hogsmeade and the Forbidden Forest were located. After about ten straight minutes of flying, though they certainly didn't go in a straight line during that time, sometimes even doubling back and going back towards the castle before changing directions again, they came to an open flat area that was at a higher elevation than they were used to, but thankfully not covered in rocks or trees either. At least not until it started to slope down.

"OK," Harry said once they all landed and were recuperated from the expended energy of getting there, "the deal was I would teach you each one of my special techniques. Not all of them. So, Gohan can bother teaching you more if you want, but first things first, you have to pick. Now, given that Hermione has recently learned how her magic works well enough to utilize her mana like her ki, I'll be showing off some of my mana attacks as well. You can pick from any of them. But since he did go ahead and volunteer, I'll let Gohan go first, and anything he does that I can do as well, I merely won't repeat, but I will let you know whether or not I can teach it."

"Lazy," Gohan commented, stepping away from the group, facing towards the distant shore. Though there were mountains and who knew how many miles of land between them, the sea breeze coming in from the West could not be mistaken. "All right, first up, my most useful and kinda favorite technique, the _Masenko_ , or Demon Flash when translated into English. Pretty basic, and can be adapted to almost any situation, doing enough damage to set up for better follow up attacks, or being the final attack if you put enough energy into it after a good barrage. OK, here goes."

Gohan then focused on a distant target, the side of one of the nearby mountains. It was far enough away the energy of the blast should have dissipated enough he wouldn't absolutely destroy it and have people asking where the mountain had gone to. Gathering energy quickly, he raised his hands above his head, one in front of the other, and a yellow-red energy sphere began to form there. Once the red had phased to yellow and some of the yellow to white, he screamed out and fired the attack, " _MA-SEN-KO-_ _ **HAA**_!"

He brought his hands down in front of him, the golden-white energy beam flashing across the distance to the mountain, outshining the sun in the immediate area, before exploding with a tremendous blast that they all could feel from where they stood on the plateau.

Nodding, satisfied, Gohan turned back to face his friends. "I learned that from Piccolo. Next, I'll show you my dad's favorite technique. The _Kamehameha_. Or the Turtle Destruction Wave translated into English."

Turning to the same spot on the mountain, this time Gohan brought his hands down by his hip, one foot in front of the other to stabilize. He began gathering energy, this time a pure white, tinged with blue at the edges, energy ball formed between his hands as he began to intone the attack. " _KA-ME-HA-ME-_ _ **HA**_!"

Once he reached the end of the word, he brought his hands together, twisting them around a bit, and took a step forward so his feet were side-by-side. As bright and devastating as the Masenko had been, the Kamehameha was ten times worse in all ways. The light of the beam was so bright that despite the sun being out, for the surrounding area at least, everywhere around the path of the energy beam appeared as though it were night in comparison. The explosion from the impact actually flash-blinded anybody looking at it and roughly half the mountain had been eaten away in the attack, leaving it looking like a burnt stick or stump after the tree was burned down.

"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed, having been stunned after the first demonstration, but this one deserved comment and then some.

"Ron! Language!" Hermione admonished him.

"Oh, I'm not done yet," Gohan informed them. "Last one, I also learned from Piccolo, though it takes a bit to power up. It's called the Special Beam Cannon!" That said, he brought two fingers up to his eyes and began focusing his energy into the attack. After a couple minutes, his fingers were sparking and glowing with barely restrained power. Another minute, and he brought the fingers to bear on the abused mountain range while shouting, " _Special Beam CANNON_!"

A spiral of orange-red energy shot out in an unusually straight beam, exploding only once it was partway into the mountain, doing nearly as much damage as the Kamehameha without as much flash.

"Heh, beat that bro," Gohan grinned, knowing Harry only had one other technique to offer that weren't the same ones he'd just demonstrated.

"Gladly," Harry smirked, knowing a few tricks that Gohan didn't know about.

"First off," he said to his friends, who were still staring wide-eyed and open-mouthed, "I can do all the same techniques Gohan just demonstrated, so I won't bother repeating, since you've already seen them. This one is my own special development. It's a bit weaker destructively-speaking, but nevertheless just as adaptive and useful, I based it off of the Masenko and Special Beam Cannon while training with Gohan and Piccolo. Basically, I just underpowered two Masenko blasts and then switched the polarity of one to make it spiral like the Special Beam Cannon. I've come up with a few varieties over the years, an over powered one that is the Masenko with a spiral, a close range one with smaller movements but twice the power, and even an ultimate variation that makes it more like the Kamehameha."

"Just get on with it!" Gohan cried out.

"Spoilsport," Harry called back at him, but started gathering his energy, focusing on a different mountain on the other side of the plateau from where Gohan had fired his attacks. "This is called the _Tenshika_ , or Heaven Glare. Not literally translated, by the way."

Holding out his arms to either side, he formed two red-orange balls in either hand, while keeping his body in tense T-shape. Once he'd prepared the chosen amount of energy, he intoned the attack while moving his body at the same time, firing it at a distant cliff face.

" _TEN-SHI-KA-_ _ **HAA**_!" he brought each arm together in a mirror of a yin-yang circle, his left arm going above, his right arm going below, and bringing the two energy balls together in front of him, before rearing back with the combined energy sphere and then pushing it forward, unleashing a stream of spiralling orange energy on par with the Masenko attack, the explosion just as massive and felt from where they stood, and tearing a decent sized chunk out of the mountain too.

Harry smirked over his shoulder a Gohan, who just smirked back, not impressed apparently. Have to see what he could do about that, Harry thought to himself.

"Blood—er," Ron stopped himself, casting a sidelong glance at Hermione, "I mean, whoa. That was wicked, mate!"

"It looks... complicated," Justin commented. "Compared to the others I mean."

"Well you don't go around starting a fight with something like this, or even throwing them out so casually. These are fight finishing moves. Only to be used when you're either up against a wall, or looking to end the fight once and for all," Harry explained. "Besides, I got a couple others to show you too."

"Wait, you do? What?" Gohan exclaimed.

"You'll see," Harry said, smiling. "I'll explain the origins and everything after. For now, enjoy the show with the rest of them."

He then began gathering energy while holding one hand out, fingers extended like he was going to create an energy ball, only one never formed, while using the other hand to hold the first by the wrist. When he reached and _passed_ the level of energy needed for the basic Kamehameha, Gohan called out in worry. "Uh, Harry? What is it exactly that you're doing?"

"Wait... for... it..." he grunted between the strain of maintaining the energy build-up. Each of his fingers began to glow and spark with contained energy, just like Gohan's did when he fired the Special Beam Cannon. "Have... to... keep... it... balanced!"

Apparently the power build-up had finally completed as he closed his fingers in a fist, his whole hand lighting up from the energy, sparks discharging randomly from it. Bringing the empowered fist up to his forehead, he took a moment to select his target on the far mountainside and once he had, he brought his fist forth, fingers now extended straight while screaming, " _ULTIMATE BEAM CANNON_!"

A beam of spiralling energy as thick around as the Kamehameha, though golden-white instead of white-blue, shot out in a straight beam and drilled straight through the mountain... and out the other side to dig _halfway through the_ _next_ _one_ before finally exploding!

"Heh," an exhausted Harry said, out of breath, "I took the basic concept of the Special Beam Cannon and multiplied it. At first I just used one extra finger, or beam to the spiral. Found it easier to use four when I tried it. Five felt as lopsided as three did, but that one, I fire the main beam from the palm and then the added energies of alternating frequencies from the fingers. It's impractical, takes as long as the Special Beam Cannon originally took to power up with twice as much concentration, but..." he gestured at the still burning results of his demonstration. "That was me holding back on what I could really put into it."

"Does Piccolo know you're trying this?" Gohan asked, concerned.

Harry shook his head no. "Neither does Dad. I've only been practicing the basic concepts in training with them and you. I've only fired this one a total of four times, counting this time. The others I mentioned, I tried the four-fingered Special Beam Cannon against Piccolo in one of our training sessions over the summer, he told me I had screwed up trying to use his technique and proceeded to show me how. Repeatedly."

"Oh, so _that's_ what happened!" Gohan remarked, like some long time private mystery of his had finally been solved.

"Yeah, I still don't like to talk about it," Harry shuffled uncomfortably. "Anyway, last demonstration, then we'll need to head back. This should be enough to whet all your appetites, and once you've made your decision, we'll start training you in how to use your chosen technique."

"Wait, you've still got another technique you've been holding out on?!" Gohan exclaimed.

"Uh," Harry blushed, scratching the back of his head, embarrassed, "Not... really. This is a, well, it's a mana attack technically."

"Oh," Gohan said. "All right then. Let's see it. I've seen enough of those mana balls and homemade spells of yours to know that it's no joke. I'd like to see exactly what something like our techniques would be like."

"Well, first of all," he said as disclaimer, "I did not invent or create this myself. I've only been able to control my mana for a short number of years. And yeah, I've managed to get enough fine control over my magic to create my own spells, but I just want it made clear that in no way am I good enough to do this by instinct alone. It's a spell that I picked up from Baba Uranai, under her explicit instruction by the way."

"All right, we get it, show us!" Ron shouted, impatient.

"What he said," Gohan agreed.

"Fine, fine, fine," Harry sighed and then stood perfectly still. For about a second.

Around his fist a green ribbon of energy with white flowing runes written as part of it appeared. The ribbon came together as a perfect circle and another appeared in front of him a little bigger. The green was the same shining emerald of his eyes and the color of his standard mana. He drew back his fist with the ring around it so that it lined up perfectly with the ring in front of him. Between the two, a third ribbon and then ring appeared, much larger and wider, big enough that they could all clearly make out the runes spinning around on the ring of pure magical energy, but none of them could understand the writing at all. At the center of this larger ring, a concentrated mana sphere began to form and grow.

" _Divine..._ " Harry intoned, his voice taking on an ethereal quality as the sphere began to shine brighter and brighter, a blinding emerald-forest green light, almost reaching the confines of the ring creating it. He then brought his fist forward in a flash move, hitting the sphere as he screamed out, " _ **BUSTER**_!"

A beam of blinding green light exploded out from the magic rings and the damage to the mountains actually superseded all the techniques so far, as when the light and smoke from the attack had subsided, there was a giant hole in the mountain big enough that even from a distance they could see clear through to the other side... and the holes made in the mountains behind that one.

"Uh, whoops," Harry gulped, clearly not having intended to go so far. "I'm... still working on that one. Control apparently needs some work."

"I'll say," Gohan commented, as stunned as the rest, and for the same reasons too.

"Uh... Let's... get back," Harry suggested. They all quickly agreed and they flew back to Hogwarts at top speed.

END "Episode 11: Hogwarts Quidditch"


End file.
